A New Shooting Star
by Pandoradoomer
Summary: This is the sequel to a former story of mine, that had an open ending, riddled with loose plot points. This story, a sort of bildungsroman in essence, will center on developping the character of our protagonists, who undergo severe mutations, when faced with the dramatis persona and the elusive character of our new villain, a chaotic evil at its finest.
1. Afterwards

Preface

Now, since I know the rules and regulations of this site, I won't be teasing you with just a preface, but with a chapter as well. I'm required to do that. Now, what is this new story from such an elusive and unknown persona such as myself? It's…a sequel. That's pretty much it. I hate open ends, they feel lazy, therefore this was pretty (obviously) planned, so now I will proceed with the regular proceedings and write the preface, as a respected self-appointed author would do. By the way, this is…me. I am a very sarcastic, ironic and self-deprecating, borderline self-loathing individual. Unless you caught on to that, already.

This is a SEQUEL, all caps for underlining the fact that you have to read at least the last 2-3 chapters, in order to understand whatever I had written here. If you wanna go the extra mile and read it all, for character development and such, yada-yada-yada, you're, obviously, again, free to do that. But you should really read at least the last 2 chapters. Repetitive reminders aside, we begin our journey through the 'amazing' mind of myself.

This is the first story I had actually planned out, that didn't go out just as a dream that kept me up at night and then, bippity-boppity-boo, three days later, a chapter emerged, along with a character. Nope, this time, I went with the 'professional' approach (one that has been sufficiently acclaimed and hated upon), so I carried out a lot of investigations…I realize that this is only a fanfic, but I don't see any reason why to mistreat it. It's still a work of fiction, be it just manipulating elements that some other, much more talented people had created. Now, this approach consists of basically, establishing a battle plan. It should give a more structured appearance to the story, so it can fit with the pattern a nineteenth century literary current has established. You should catch on what it is after the first chapter.

To sum it all up, I would like to conclude these three paragraphs of meaningless and tedious fodder and delay by saying that I'd appreciate if you'd punch me down. I have appreciated the praises, and they have always made my day, but I appreciate a well-structured and righteous critique more.

Also, this is not a preface in any way, is it?

The thing you should read before diving in:

s/12367248/1/The-Power-Within

The sun rose from the horizon, as tired as usual, shining its eternal light over the land. It was as warm as usual, that perfect temperature, right between the blistering heat of the summer and the strangely candid cold of the fall. As it rose, its joyful rays served as the alarm clock of the many inhabitants of the kingdom of Mewni. Not only that, it also fulfilled its most important purpose. That of showcasing the scorched ground of the courtyard.

After a fire burns, it's said the soil needs decades to become fertile again, and when that time arrives, it will be a rebirth that only the sweet breeze of spring can bring. However, nothing is known about a healing powers-reducing almighty blast that had completely obliterated an immortal Sartorian. Toffee's ashes were still there, the wind too weak to carry them into the oblivion of the realm. They were bound to forever be a thorn in the eyes of those who gazed upon the royal crops. In the nearby woods, Rhombulus' prison was still there, the simple minded brawn of the Magic High Commission, forgetting that what he does cannot be undone. It's strange to see how light reflects through a magic crystal, the size of a fallen tower.

Needless to say that because Star had burnt down the crops, the Kingdom has taken quite a turn for the worse. Don't think that famine and starvation had consumed the land, yet…The poor people and whatever they were growing inside their homes were completely unscathed, as their strategical positioning saved them from the wicked Toffee's attack. They didn't even know there was a war going on, until the gates have been flooded with swarms of rats and spiders. When the night has fallen, the peasants have fallen as well…asleep. They were a simple people, not easily woken up, not easily disturbed. When the cupola fell, they just turned around on the other side. Getting up the following morning to see how their royalty had experienced the negative time of their life really got them moving…towards their mundane tasks. They still had their own problems to take care of.

The aristocracy was, however completely destroyed. Their residences were inside the castle and their role in society was limited. They were nothing but natural born complainers, whining all the time about how their precious homes were laid to waste. The Sartorian had managed to demolish precisely that part of the palace that would put more pressure on the Queen, as she was forced to accommodate them all in their time of need. And they were nothing but grateful…They rewarded her with their endless protests, almost criticizing her for not saving their sorry buttocks, when they did absolutely nothing to help. They just laid on their backs, contemplating from a safe distance, the vicissitudes of the battle, some cowering in fear and hiding under their beds, while some were passively vociferating their support.

And at the edge of the two sides of the same coin, lay the Queen, torn between the multiple responsibilities she had. She was a woman of utmost composure, never losing her calm even when the situation was dire, however this didn't stop her from feeling overwhelmed. She had to repair the castle, support the nobles, had the burden of safekeeping Toffee's remains, so that they can be encased in crystal by Rhombulus, in the most solemn of manner and to top it all off, she still had her own personal problems. This battle had served as an extremely thorough reminder that she is no longer what she used to be. In the prime of her youth she was the strongest there was, but now she was nothing but a mere shadow of what she once stood for. She more than made up for it in military prowess and tactical thinking, but it wasn't the same. Now, more mature than she had ever been, she missed the good old times, when she could still evade from the tediousness of royalty and actually relax…But, those thoughts were poisonous to her mind. Especially in the mental state she was in. She didn't need to let her guard down, rather she had to focus more than ever, so that she would rise from where she had fallen, and with her, her kingdom shall rise as well. The first step to this ascension? Well, there is no kingdom without a castle, is it, now? Therefore, she was right on the scaffoldings, being the self-appointed architect that would bring the lost glory to Mewni.

"Would you mind bringing that pile of bricks here, Rhombulus?" she asked the only member of the Commission still present on site.

"Awww," the crystal clear monolith sighed. "Why was I the one left to help with the cleaning?"

"Because you are the only one whose abilities can actually help. You'd prefer Omnitraxus turning my kingdom into a black hole?" she replied nonchalantly, still focused on the blueprints before her

"Fine…You know, for how much we had worked on this castle, it still looks the same as the day we began?"

"Three months, and it's because it was pretty much damaged beyond belief, after the cupola we're staying in had been blasted off and fell through all the floors, until it hit the ground. This castle had been built in a decade, it can't be fixed in an instant," the Queen answered while drawing a series of lines on the architect sketches.

There was a long silence between the two, each focusing on his own task. Rhombulus was acting as childish as ever, asking questions without passing them through the filter of thought, beforehand.

"Have you heard anything of Glossaryck?"

"I've told you before and I don't know how many times I'll have the nerves to repeat it. Glossaryck is roaming the universe, hopping through dimensions searching for any traces of evil, Toffee might have left behind. I believe you're also wondering about Hekapoo, right?"

"Yeah, where is…" he didn't get to finish the question, because the Queen interrupted him.

"She is unaccounted for at the moment. After the fight, she had simply vanished. The Magic High Commission is in some sort of recess at the moment, as we are all shook due to recent events. Best we don't force ourselves back together. Besides, I can't say I miss her, but it's more a matter of shame, than it is of hate. I've kept a lot of secrets from the Commission, and she was my most vocal scolder, so this separation is nothing if it isn't welcome…"

"Why did you do that?"

The Queen stopped, her pencil's tip breaking all of a sudden. She sighed and couldn't look at him, but rather she gazed upon the horizon, seeing the damages done to her kingdom: the burnt field, the broken down gate, the fallen trees in the forest near the castle. All this, could've been avoided should she had gotten past her unending pride and confessed her shortcomings to the Commission. But, alas, 'royal secret from royal shame' echoed in her mind, as she failed miserably, and paid dearly for her mistakes.

"Pride," she answered simply, digging her head down in the blueprints once more. Rhombulus tried to continue his obnoxious array of questions, but she had sealed her lips. Now she was blindly focusing on the mindless, tedious task of drawing meaningless lines, awkwardly trying to avoid conversation.

In the span of three months, only a couple of rooms have been completely repaired, those that were expressly needed in order for the kingdom to still have some sort of organization. Living quarters were only second in priority to treasury, royal guard barracks and the storage. Therefore, all the citizens whose activity took place inside the palace, had to make do, especially its inhabitants. The aforementioned nobility had to use one of the furthest ancestors of the bed: animal pelts. It's obvious they were severely displeased with the condition, and their reaction was on par with their feelings. Even the Queen had to cut down on her luxury; she had the same treatment.

Star was wandering the empty hallways, thinking how vivid, how lively they were before. Whereas now, a lone, lost servant could be spotted in this wing, in the past, she remembered how she managed to slip away from the careful gaze of her nanny and blend with the crowd. She didn't know at the time, that there was the school, and the university, as well. She entered a classroom and was met with an immense blackboard for the first time in her life. Seeing something so dark, was scary for just a toddler. She cried in a corner, head on her lap, letting her little gold diadem, the symbol of royalty, fall. For a baby, time passes slower, therefore it could've been hours for her, yet minutes for the rest, especially since she was scared, and dismayed, afraid of that black monster. Her eyes were going dry, when she felt a heavy, wrinkly hand on her head. Between hiccups, she looked up, showing her reddened blue eyes to the formally dressed old man. She couldn't read at the time, yet she knew he had a small badge, reading 'professor', but the other name was unintelligible.

"Aww, why does such a beautiful girl as yourself feel the need to fill the air with her sorrowful sobs?" he said, his voice of a pleasant warmth. It was as if the most skilled bard of the land had blessed her with the most outstanding ballad…You know a person best when you look into their eyes, they say. She felt like she knew this man all her life, just by hearing him.

"I…I'm scared," she stuttered, speaking with that broken language, little children use, innocent, yet unpolished by years of experience.

"Oh, and what monster had dared to strike fear in such an untainted heart?"

She couldn't speak, but instead she pointed to the immense blackboard from behind the old professor. He chuckled, joyfully and then, still smiling, leaned down to be at the same level as the crying princess. His joint and hips, weren't helping and he couldn't help a groan as he bent his knees.

"Oh, that ancient thing. Don't worry, he is not savage, he is rather docile. Let me show you," he said offering her the same wrinkly, bony hand as before. She grabbed it, instantly and, after a painful readjustment, the two began to waddle towards the 'monster'.

"We use things like these," the old man said, showing her pieces of chalk, one white and the other colored. "We have learnt to tame this beast using these magic items. He had become our closest friend, ever since. In return for our friendship, he offers us his body, so we can express ourselves."

He started drawing different shapes of varying sizes on the blackboard, using the colored chalk to aid him in impressing the little girl. He wasn't an artist, but, still he knew how to pretend to be. He combined triangles, squares and circles to create a little unicorn, a flower, and a crown. Star was mesmerized by that. What magic was it that allowed him to create something from…dark void? Seeing her wide eyes, he turned to her and said:

"This big monster has allowed us to use our…'spells'," he chuckled," to paint his body in whatever we want. We use him to let our ideas be known to many other people. Why be selfish, when we can share what we do and create to all those who want?" He leaned down to her, but only slightly and presented her his brightly tinted pink chalk. "Here, have a go!"

He then drained all the strength left in his reservoir, and used it to lift her on his shoulder. He was wobbling a bit, but it was stable enough so she didn't fall. At first, she was still scared, facing the clear black of the board, but after a candid "Go on, it doesn't bite" she finally touched and dragged the chalk on the 'monster's' skin. There are no words to express the ineffable and raw joy of the little girl as she drew a flower…

Distressed cries were heard clearly in the uproar of the students who were roaming the hall, while on break.

"Star! Star!" the Queen yelled, as she made her way in the chamber, the students respectfully making room. She stopped when she heard her daughter's laughs filling the air with the innocent chuckles of an infant. "Oh, Mr. Owlful," she exclaimed a bit surprised.

"My Queen?"

"What brings you in my humble school?"

"My daughter," she said looking at the little elated girl on top of his shoulders. Owlful's look changed from an ancestral joy to fear and sorrow, as he hastily put the girl down. She ran towards her mother and hugged her tight. The old professor bent down, still grunting, staring at the floor:

"I beg forgiveness, your Majesty…I had no idea she was the princess."

"You know the law, professor…You'll have to come with me," the Queen said, somewhat mercilessly, as two guards appeared from behind her…

"Oh, Star! There you are!" Scott's voice woke her up from her dream. "You're late!" he scolded her.

"Sorry, I couldn't find the classroom you said you'd be in."

"Yeah, because your mother wanted to keep the 'quaint atmosphere' and refused to let me label at least this deserted wing…Come in," the boy said stepping inside a nearby room. She followed him inside. There was an enormous hole in the wall parallel to the door, which doubled as a balcony and a window. A lonely desk was in front of the blackboard mounted on the wall, about fifteen feet apart. On it, there was a little notebook, and a shining pink pen, with the initials ''S.B' engravedon it. Star sat down on the small chair, which creaked under her weight.

"Are you ready to start?" Scott asked, leaning down on the desk that followed the chair's cry, prompting him to jump up.

"Well…not really. I don't even know what we're supposed to be doing here…" she answered simply.

" Okay, then let me repeat what I've been reminding you continuously for the past month…You can't let your guard down and just slack off forever, therefore, your mother had given me the task of, and I can't underline enough how much I am quoting from Moon's glossary of ideas, 'turning you into the Queen Mewni deserves and needs'. As a result, I now have to teach you how to be prim, proper, eloquent, diplomatic etcetera."

Star's ready smile turned to a frown as she realized what she had gotten herself into. She should've just gone with the initial thought she had this morning and meet up with princess Pony Head and the gang and just spend the day with them, as she did, whenever she was confronted with a task she didn't really enjoy. But, since this time, for the first time, actually, it was Scott who asked her to do something unpleasant, she decided to just humor him, just this once, as he had done before…

"Wow, I can't believe you bought all that," he said laughing. " I must be a better actor than I gave myself credit for."

"Nah, you're actually as transparent as a window," she chuckled, refusing to admit that he was right. Again.

" Sure…Now, since your mother was nice enough to give me a vague enough instruction that I can manipulate for the good of both of you…I have devised an extremely thorough curriculum that should accomplish the goal Moon has set for you," he replied as he took three pieces of paper out of a drawer of the professor's desk.

"What are these?" she asked taking a good look at what was written on the clear sheets. She had never seen a timetable before.

"The classes we'll be having. Your mother is trying to cut down on your recklessness, and I can't help but agree with her. I believed that a strict schedule can help."

"And why are there three?"

"Well, since I don't want to say I know you better than you do, I designed three different timetables, each with completely different classes, that would help us achieve our goals."

"I think I'll choose this one," she said handing him the one labeled 'humane'

"Of course…the only one without Maths, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with a smirk profiling in the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, you," he replied with a smile. "I guess you don't want to start today, right?"

"I don't want to start at all…but a delay would do. You wanna do something today?"

"As much as I wish to spend some quality time with you, for the first time since my birthday, that I still don't know how you found about, I can't…I'm the one in charge of the nighttime repairs today, so I think I'm going to call it a day for now. See you around," he said exiting through the door.

That was odd…Ever since she met him, he had yet to use a door…He usually just opened a portal and would go through it, wherever. Why the sudden change of heart? And when did he ever complain of sleep deprivation. If she remembered it well enough, he, himself told her he didn't have to rest. Maybe he was just trying to sync up, and step down from the magic world for a while. After all that he had been through, it's best he would distance himself from all that ruckus.

Now, since it was the middle of the day, what could she do? She wasn't in the mood to go out, so…her attention was directed to the timetable, lying on the floor, the one she had chosen. Didn't really care much for what it was written on it at the moment when she handed it out to Scott, so maybe it's best she repays his effort with the least she can do. Her classes were things she had never heard about…Philosophy, ethics, conduit…These were holding off Monday and Thursday, the rest of the week was filled with magic classes, coming in different shapes and sizes, 'Dark Spells Course' and 'Combat Training' being the ones that repeated themselves the most, trying to accentuate the lack of creativity in his titling process. There was something peculiar about the piece of paper though. It seemed that a lot of things were erased from it, especially near the magic classes' part. It wasn't clear what was removed, but it clearly was a question to ask. Tomorrow. Now, she was in the mood to go out.

The night has fallen and the castle was sleeping, except for Scott who was frantically dragging around sacks of cement and piles of bricks, making the work of a crew all by himself. With the help of carefully and cleverly placed lamps, he managed to light up the area, without deranging anyone from down below. He looked at Rhombulus who was still around to help.

"You've done enough for today, Rhombulus. Go home!" he said, seeing how the monolith was yawning, while holding on to a massive post.

"Are you sure you can handle it all by yourself? 'Cause if you can't, I got no problems, I can stay."

"Thanks for the offer, but I can manage. Go home and rest, now. We'll need your strength and spirit tomorrow as well," he said friendly patting the colossus on the back, as he dropped the long post. It crashed a newly repaired wall, causing Scott to sigh. Rhombulus panicked and opened a portal, trying to flee, ashamed.

"Don't worry about it, I'll handle it. I always do, remember?" he laughed, but it wasn't his laugh. Rhombulus noticed a little bit of grief in his laughter…He didn't worry about it, and blamed his carelessness for it.

Returning home, he was greeted by the same pointy furniture, glowing as bright as ever. No disturbance in the crystal orb, no green hole in the background, all an imperturbable calm, as cold and eventless as ever. He was tired after a day's work and magic beings need to rest as well, from time to time. He walked down the corridor filled with the ones he had frozen over the time, his head hanging low and his eye closed. Exhausted, he opened the door to his bedroom, only to realize what had actually happened…Turning back to the long hallway, he saw that all the evil-doers he had encased in crystal as centuries passed under the suspicion of being malevolent and mean-spirited…they had all vanished. Rhombulus freaked out, and started running amok, checking every single place to assure himself that this wasn't all just a figment of his drained mind, but in place of every statue there was nothing but a hole…Only one crystal begged to differ. Where it once stood encasing the Queen of Darkness herself, there now lay a note:

"Thank you! You've made the job of finding allies much easier for me, Mr. Bobblehead. I hope, I didn't cause your freakishly weak mind to go crazy. If I indeed have, well, don't worry. It won't be for long. Celebrate!"

He didn't wait a second more. In an instant he called forth a meeting of the Magic High Commission, and opened a portal to their headquarters. After a bit of waiting, the Queen and Hekapoo have shown up, and, since Glossaryck refused to appear, Rhombulus presented them the reason for his…mistimed call. Needless to say their reaction was completely called for.

"YOU LOST ECLIPSA?" Hekapoo yelled.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that someone can break my unbreakable crystals?"

"Indeed, you couldn't have known," the Queen agreed. "However, this news comes when it's the most unneeded…We just went through a war, we can't stand another one for the time being…We need to regrow, to repair…"

"And do you think that whoever did this cares? Look at the note he sent us. 'You've made the job of finding allies much easier for me.' Looks like this was nothing but a battle…We won it, but the war still goes on," Hekapoo exclaimed infuriated.

"No need, to raise you tone, I fully understand. Still, the situation is dire, and we need to figure things out before it is too late. We should wait for Glossaryck to return. He might be able to shine a light over this whole ordeal..."  
"I agree with the Queen here!" Rhombulus said, as if he just woke up from a deep slumber.

"Fine by me, but, Moon. We need you to be prepared…I understand what your kingdom has been through, as the battleground and all that, but…we can't win without Mewni." There was remorse in Hekapoo's voice…

"Then, will you come and help with the repairs as well? As soon as I get my castle in working order, I can offer my full assistance, but until then I can't promise anything."

"I…I can't. I've got my own problems to take care of, and they are not any of your concern. Besides, you don't need me to pile on anything at the moment. Rhombulus should be able to help along with that magic boy of yours…" she said, ending it with a sigh.

"Here," Rhombulus said holding the note in his left snake hand. "You should see it too." The second the Queen laid eyes upon the note, she froze…She recognized the handwriting and the uncanny style was something she had grown accustomed to. However, she managed to grab a hold of herself. She grabbed the note and pretended to study it, but never returned it to Rhombulus. After that, the three present members had split apart, each going to his own dimension. Moon couldn't sleep well that night. She kept thinking at that note, and the fact that it seemed to have been written by none other than Scott…


	2. Down

After the dust has settled after the battle, Glossaryck announced that he had to leave the castle for a while. The Commission was in an uproar, while Scott nodded understandingly. He was the only one who had meddled with the same concepts his ambivalent homologue had, therefore it was a piece of cake for him. Star wasn't even trying, but this didn't stop her from asking for explanations.

"Okay, this should be nice to bring up in a future conversation, we're probably, inevitably, going to have. You do know that Glossaryck's purpose is keeping the balance, and nothing else, right?"

"Right!" she exclaimed, glad that she finally got him to ask her something she had a positive to.

"Great. I suppose, I don't have to explain the fact that Toffee was an enormous evil-doer, therefore he has tilted the scales pretty much towards that side. Thankfully, you had managed to completely obliterate him and set the balance once more. Kudos for that, by the way. Now, however, none of us has any clue what Toffee has done all this time, while he was raising that horrid army we fought, so, one of us has to embark on a trip to find out whether or not, he had damaged something else, besides this wrecked castle. He has an impressive array of dimensions to pass through, and the later he inspects them, the worse it's going to be should he find any flaws…"

"But why aren't you going with him? Aren't you slacking off?" she asked teasing him.

"No, I am not. We have…we had equal duties. I fulfilled my part and his part as well, while he was off vacationing, to no one knows where. He owes me one, but he didn't wait for me to tell him that, he pretty much did it in self-consciousness…"

The answer was pretty farfetched. Scott never brought this up, he had only now thought of mentioning that he and Glossaryck had equal duties, when he was confronted with a jokingly put question. Star took note of that, but only subconsciously. She also noticed the overall defensive attitude that he had. But that was all in the past.

The world…the universe they lived in had an interesting layering scheme. There could be five planes that could be differentiated, each reuniting a plethora of dimensions. He worked his way from bottom to top…First stop, the Underworld. Not to be mistaken for Mewni's underworld, with all the demons and such. The Underworld was a land of the damned. It wasn't the shiniest place you'd book a vacation to, but its looks were painting an underestimating picture of what it actually had to offer. It was unique in its way, because it comprised of only one singular dimension, albeit it was bigger than any other…

As its creative name says, it's an universal graveyard, a place where all those who had passed gather round and spend their collective eternity in there…Many cultures had pictured three instances of afterlife…Heroes, good-doers, sinless people go to Heaven, Valhalla, Jannah, Elysian Fields and so on, while the others are bound to rot in Hell, Hel, Jahannam, Tartar…Those who had not received their part of judgement, from any "high-authority" are left in a purgatory, a strangely common notion. Yeah, this is all completely fabricated. Death isn't the sweet release of afterlife, it has no other connotation. It's not freeing you from you human bonds, it doesn't lead to any transcendent-ascendant state, it isn't followed by rebirth, but perhaps the most important of all…It knows no difference. The death of a king is the same as the death of a no-good peasant, because it treats everyone equally. All those who are born are duty-bound to die, and this is the one law that the universe never denies. Immortality cannot be granted, once it had been removed, by any means. However, this ability can ironically and paradoxically be lost, through various practices…

Do not believe death is this irreversible process, because it is not. Many have cheated it, avoided it, and came back from it. Just because you die, doesn't mean your existence ends. Revival is possible, for everyone, regardless of origin, beliefs. Frankly, what you were before matters less…The more unknown you are, the better to die, and return. Death wipes the names off the plaques you had engraved them on, but the revival doesn't write them back. You return with the nothing you had come down with. Scott and Lekmet have revived fallen comrades many times, but the costs…the costs are immense. But it's best to know what happens when you die first.

Religions do not usually get things right. They are philosophical concepts, axioms we need to accept, being called heretic should we try to apply reason to its findings. However, it's got one thing right, which will knock atheists off their feet and will turn agnostics into hardcore believers…All living things do, in fact share a soul. It's not just the heart pumping out blood that keeps you on your knees…It's also your soul. And this animus, as Latins preferred to put it, is as mathematicians put it, a sufficient, yet unnecessary condition…for life. A person can live with and without a soul, and a soul can live without a person. It's a gray area…Your brain has your memories and your knowledge, and so does your soul…The difference is that one cannot function without your body, while the other just dislodges itself from it, should you cease to breathe…

This is death. Your soul leaves your body…There is no strange shadow that comes to guide it to its place, no gatekeeper that counts your sins, and decides where to place you, as if he were the dean of a college. It just goes away, fades from the upper realms and rests here in the Underworld, for as long as it wants…or can.

Now, there is a catch…Once your soul had disappeared, it can come back, but there is a principle involved. Your tiny animus has called ahead and booked up a seat in this endless realm, and you can't do that and then just change your mind…It's permanent. And no one can just take up that seat, when you leave. It must be completely occupied…Therefore, you either find someone else to occupy it…a sacrifice, or you donate a part of your soul, should it be big enough to support such splitting.

And since, things keep getting shoved, another explanation is inbound. Most people think, "Oh, he has a big soul, he is so kind and generous." Yeah, that is false. You can't grow it, you can't nourish it, or any other made-up marketing scheme or religious idelology. It's a given. Not genetic, not passed down, it's pure luck…a pretty immutable force. Out of all living beings…If there were a ranking, Star Butterfly would be on top of the leaderboard, followed by Scott, Lekmet, the Queen…Forces of good, usually got the upper hand in this situation. Oh, and immortal beings can renounce their condition by performing a revival. Lekmet is a special case, though…He just uses his powers differently.

Now, that this realm is explained, you can actually understand what will happen. Glossaryck arrived and was, as always, baffled by the unsettling view. It wasn't about the omens, the heavy atmosphere, nor the constant moaning of these sovereignless souls, but…he was continuously surprised to see the unending decay of this world. As people laid waste across the many dimensions, this realm grew and grew, but only in population…never in size. It became crowded with the lives of so many innocent beings. Hearing their endless moans was a symphony of desolation, not meant to be listened by the weak of heart. Needless to say Glossaryck was not that shirk. The second he arrived, he sighed:

"It never gets easier, visiting this place…Let's get it over with."

And with that, he started bolting through the dimension…He spent many an hour jolting through the fabric of space, seemingly aimless. He didn't stop, didn't look below to see the awed souls, gasping as they saw a glimmer of light, a lightning arrow crossing the sky, at tremendous speed. These sparks of life were gathered up, as for an event, witnessing someone from above, venturing into the world below…They hoped for a salutary gesture.

A mountain marked the end of Glossaryck's travel. He slowed down and landed, if you could call levitating over the ground 'landing'. At the peak, there lay a hut, a bit broken down and sluggishly constructed. Its roof was made out of rags and its walls, were made from broken down sticks, glued together using mold. Its size was petite, perhaps only one person could live there, but only barely. However, Glossaryck didn't stay much at the door. He just smirked a bit, seeing how an old friend of his had become, living in a broken down cabin on a lonely mountain in a lonely realm, at the bottom of the known universe. He tried to open the door, but it crashed down, revealing the silhouette of the unhappy inhabitant.

He was a tall figure, two curled horns coming out of his forehead, making him look like a rhinoceros-unicorn hybrid. He had large ears, their tips pointing downwards, and two enormous earring were hanging from each one. His neck was resembling that of a giraffe, long and thin, him being hunched over in order to fit inside his home. Mostly lean, he had short stubby feet, resembling hooves, but not quite. Regarding his dress-code, the best way to describe it would be 'raggy'. He wore a long gray cloth, covering his loins and feet, while his top half was exposed, revealing his dark gray skin. He was pretty muscular, for the place he was in, but his strength was useless. He turned to face the loud noise that startled him, revealing his face to Glossaryck. He had long dark hair, messy and unwashed, not as if water could flow through this realm. He was missing his lower jaw, leaving him with all his lower denture exposed…He missed a few teeth, and those who were still present were sharp, yet chipped. His skin was falling in sheds, leaving the skull visible. His eyes were hollow, two yellow dots floating lonely in his sockets. He had no nose, but two vertical and parallel slits, perhaps his nostrils.

"What do YOU want?" he said. His voice sounded like the wind blowing through a half-open door, yet is had that mournful tone, a ghost wails in.

"Just a favor to ask you, Grimm."

"You've got some nerve to come here unannounced, asking for a favor, when you hadn't been here from the time you were created…From the time, I was asked to gather enough magic to create you, from nothing…"

"I am not here to hear your complaints…"  
"Too bad, because you're the first alive thing I see coming here in ages. I've been driven mad long enough, now you're gonna be my outlet, or you have no business here more than a goat at the banquet table."

"You are the weirdest Crator I know…"

"Now where was I? Oh, yeah, how you were created…I gathered all that magic from nowhere, and channeled it into your being, while the Universe had just ordered you. And in the millennia you had existed, never had you come to pay your gratitude, you condescending bastard! So why would I help you now?"

"Oh, I don't know…because it's your job as the…What was it again?"

"What do you mean?"

"You had a fancy name, I can't remember who, chose for you. This way, mortals remember you with a clever metaphor, rather than your grim connotative surname, pun intended."

"Oh, yeah…the Shepherd of Lost Souls…And why would it be my job to help you? I am nothing but a guide, I just save those who wander off, and bring them back to this damned world. If they get lost, I find them, if they get caught, I free them, if they get hurt, I heal them. I work with souls, with the dead and you, my 'friend', are neither. Therefore, you are not worth my time…"

"Look, I'm not going to stay here and take your cliché behavior. You know full well that if you don't chime in every once in a while you will have to endure a trial, a formal hearing, all that Council ruckus, and you don't seem to be in the state to go through all that. So, just answer a question, because that's my spooooky request, that you should take in consideration. Is that so hard?"

"Argh…fine! What do you want?!" he yelled, getting tired of this back and forth one-upping.

"I gotta make sure that a certain soul is here, because if he's not I'm going to have to assign some new duties. Otherwise, I'm just gonna have to check a few numbers with you."

Grimm paused for a while, letting his jaw drop. He seemed amazed and baffled.

"You are…so stupid…Do you think I keep tabs on everyone? There are INFINITE SOULS HERE! HOW THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO TRACK THEM ALL?"

"I don't know, but you managed didn't you? I mean what's that little gizmo behind you? A globe…How peculiar. And since we both know what it does, will you please spare me the angst and just humor me? The quicker you listen to me, the faster I'll be gone and your hatred can grow bigger completely unfazed and unaffected."

Grimm didn't bother to answer. He just turned around and started waving his hands, lighting up the orb. He sighed heavily, then, annoyed, asked him, laconically:

"Name."

"Toffee."

"Dimension."

"Mewni."

"Species."

"Sartorian."

"Great. He's here alright. Been here for some time. Made some friends, and all that. Anything else?" he said mechanically, strangely cadenced.

"Yeah. You have a moral compass or something like that down here, right?"

"What do you want with it?"

"Where does it point to at the moment?"

"And what does it mean to you? It shows me the proportion of evil over good in this realm, the land of the dead. What bearing does it have on the overworld? It's completely useless to you. Many bad people died, many good people died, but their number doesn't influence your puny dimensions at all. It might be a million, it might be a thousand, but it has absolutely no real value…"

"Humor me," Glossaryck said simply.

"It's been centered for a while, but lately it has really taken a turn for the evil side. What the heck did you do a mass slaughter?"

His question wasn't answered…Before he was done, Glossaryck had disappeared, leaving behind no trace that he was ever here.

"Typical," Grimm sighed. "Might as well do my routine, now that I woke up…"

And with that he dropped the cloth covering his body, leaving his skinless legs show, underneath. They were encased in a layer of rotten flesh, but strangely enough, they didn't leave that corpse stench. He lay on the grass, bowing down, letting his forehead touch the gray grass. He started quietly mumbling some words, almost no one alive at the time could understand, and after he was done, he started levitating over the ground and in an instant he vanished.

Glossaryck was at the edge of the Underworld by now. He saw the border between life and death and didn't hesitate to cross it, almost shattering it. For a while now it was so fragile, that even the slightest perturbation could make it crack. It only needed the right thing to make that glass resonate and break. Passed back in the land of the living, he opened a portal and set course for his next destination…The borders of the portal were engulfed in fiery flames and it gave away a warm, scolding glow…


	3. The Lair

"Great, now that I had arrived, what do I need…what do I need?"

The dark caped man had asked himself, sitting on a rock, beating it with his slick, pale fingers. Behind him, lay the suit of armor he had taken off, revealing his skinny muscular tone. He wore nothing but, what appeared to be a baggy tank top, brown and worn out. It seemed as if he once filled the curves outlined by his clothes. On top of the chainmail an enormous gauntlet rested. It was nothing short of imposing, radiating strength all around it. Inside the palm there was a small socket in which a small lime-green gem slept, giving off a faint glow. Underneath his long white hair, you could see the wounds of a former battle, that scarred him and deprived him of a limb. His left arm was missing, and in its place there wasn't even a stump. It was a clean cut. His completely black eyes seemed hollow, but you could barely see the dark irises moving in the night, as shadows glide across the moonlit plains.

"Hmmm, oh, right. Every villain needs a proper attire, right?"

And with that, he used his still there right hand to blast his former clothing away, and tear them, link by link. His attack was precise, accurately missing his most prized possession, the gauntlet. In lieu of his medieval armor he had summoned something that would please him more. Something modern, yet old-fashioned, quaint, in a word. His cape flew off, burnt by the same fires that consumed his chainmail vest and a crimson blouse took its place, covered by a dark blue vest and complimented by a white scarf. On top of it, there lay a coat that covered his bare skin from the back of the head to the waist. To further underline his steadfast presence he conjured a pair of silk, indigo trousers, masterfully created, shining like the sky above him. A simple pair of boots, brown this time, completed his appearance. He looked like he just got out of his box, a simple figurine from a game…"Something's still missing, though," he thought to himself as his gaze fell on the empty sleeve, flailing ever so slightly in the shy breeze. "Of course!" he mentally exclaimed. What kind of villain shows his weakness to his foes? Closing his eyes, he focused his entire energy in conjuring the following spell. A yellow glow had been birthed on his left shoulder, and his expression changed to the universal face of pain. After spending a couple of minutes, stoically enduring the tremendous agony, he came to the realization that it was no use. His wound has been sealed shut, scarring him until he would find the cure for his condition…He knew it, once, but it has been so long since he…was. For now, he needed to settle for what he could do. He summoned a book, from which he ripped a page. He proceeded to light the page ablaze, and place it where his hand would be, should he still have it. Miraculously the bundled up ashes stuck in the air, being surrounded by a blue flame. Fingers emerged from the bundled up dark remains, forming a new hand for the crippled villain. Even his sleeve was now filled, granting him the symmetry he thrived for.

"Eh, not much, but it will do. Okay, now what's next on the list? I've got myself patched up…barely. Now, let's see what is higher up on the pyramid of needs…Oh, yeah. I need a lair, but perhaps the position could be a bit better. Okay, I've got what I need. Let's get to work."

That being said, he jumped up in the air, levitating about thirty feet above the ground, and started taking in his surroundings. A large uneven plain was profiling before his eyes, with a river crossing it, seemingly a snake through a sea of rust. There was no life around him, not even in its most basic form. The land he stood over, was not a realm of vividness, but rather had been plagued with the curse of death and solace. The only mementos of what was before, were a few scorched tree trunks and the withered black leaves of the hedges that once grew on the river banks. It was just the perfect place. The villain started gathering energy in an immense blue ball above his head, an effortless task for him. After it had outgrown him to twice his height, he bent down, shooting in towards the ground directly underneath him. The impact's force was exactly what he intended. The dirt and soil fled from the crash point, crawling scared to the edges of a new formed crater. The blue snake melted, molding with the red dust around it, creating a blood river, damned to flow through a manmade valley. To add insult to the wound he had inflicted upon Mother Nature, he didn't let the serpent drown and die at the edge of his new lair, leaving him to rest his tired bowels at the premature end of his journey…No, he needed to suffer. Manipulating the gravity, he had forced it to continue his trek through the land, forever scarring his endless body with a ridge…

The crater wasn't enough. It was just a deep hole, empty and broad. Aiming the same terraforming pulses at the edges of the cataclysm he, himself had conjured, creating a steep drop in order to halt any assaults. Nothing could come in, yet nothing could get out…yet. He wasn't quite content with the landforms. They were so bland, so unarranged, so natural… With another blast he had forced the ground to painfully erupt, creating a mountain where none could be before. Its peak was far above the edge of the crater, losing itself in the blanket of gray clouds on the sky's crimson bed. To seal the fate of the river, he made it circle around the base of the ridge, looping endlessly around the future site of unspeakable horrors.

He still hated it…It now had its ups and downs and his trademark on it, but now it all seemed so out in the open, so exposed…You can't have that. A lair must be as elusive as its owner. Flying down in the middle of his creation, he flailed his arms, raising up a cloud of dust. Then, with a red flame, he ignited it all, leaving behind nothing but a thick layer of fog, however, uneven. Paradoxically, it was thinner exactly in the middle, crippling the vision of those doomed to wander around the ages.

It was still incomplete. It was hidden, but still empty…it lacked any sort of thrills to it, because walking on plain ground was so boring, so tedious. He had four corners to fill and each had to be special. The South he plagued with pitfalls, with caves, with hazards, to fall through. Every misstep was going to lead to you plummeting head first to your doom. And should the impact not be fatal, your death wasn't the least bit less unavoidable. The pitch dark didn't allow you to see where have you even entered your tomb from, and should you try to blast yourself through the ceiling, you'd be greeted by the sharp end of a stalactite. If you would go for a more careful approach and just go to climb the walls, you'd still meet the same fate, as you would slowly drift towards insanity, seeing that you can't find any irregularity in the cavern's sides, and if you were to create ones for yourself you'd waste your energy on trying to destroy an impenetrable rock…

On the opposite end, in the North, he had sprinkled a forest, but the trees aren't the omens of life and innocence people hope for. No leaves were found on the desolate branches, as he mimicked the scorched trunks he had seen on the river banks. The wood was covered with barbed thorns, so that you couldn't even lean on them for support…The plants below were toxic, poisonous. Should you touch them bare-handed, you'd get stung with different kinds of venoms with effects varying from blisters and rashes to nausea and vomiting. When daytime fades, the vines that lazily slumber on the branches, come to life, hunting down anything in their close quarters…Unlucky that who chose to fall asleep underneath such a terrifying tree…

The West was going to be the stables...forever open. Beasts were going to roam the land day and night, torturing any helpless soul who dared to venture to their corner. Herds of hellhound would patrol, dauntlessly haunting the unfortunate with their bloodcurdling howls, after which they would begin their stalking. Only praying can save you from their preying… Once they've got a whiff of your scent, you are as good as dead…

The East was left empty, plain, but with a catch. That was his favorite part. Whereas the ground had its uneven parts, here it was literally all leveled down. Looking in front or behind, left or right, you'd be greeted by the same maze of nothingness. Once entered you'd never exit, as much as you tried, unless you could walk continuously forward, without ever changing your path. Good luck trying to do that, with all the fog surrounding the entire crater and the fierce winds that forced the dust to cripple your vision. It was the place where you'd meet your doom and at the same time drive yourself mad in the process, throwing shame upon your grave…

"Okay, now what's left…Oh, of course! The cherry on top, right?" he said as he noticed how empty the mountain he had created was…So lonely, he needed something to cheer him up. It had been so much since he did things like these. So much magic usage was draining him. He was breathing heavily, but he enjoyed it. The more painful it was the better he felt…It was exhilarating to feel the blood pumping through his veins, throbbing in veins ready to burst on the inside. Agony was what drove him forward. However, creativity is what stumped him…He had been imprisoned for so long, he had forgotten how a lair should look, what should it contain and so on. The villain got another book now, a thick one, with a worn out cover, bitten by the cold teeth of time. It's title was simple, one word, yet it was unreadable. It was not a language known by anyone living in this universe. After he had flipped through the pages, angered that he hadn't found out anything he liked, his eyes finally lit up, should that be possible. Ripping the page that caused his reaction, he threw the book in the crater, a loud thud following after several minutes. Levitating the image of his dreams in the air, he focused towards the lone peak of the mountain. With one swift blast, he obliterated it, leaving behind a flat plateau, big enough to house an enormous castle. He landed in the middle of it, and lay the page on the ground, then flew away. After reaching a safe distance, he had one last spell to cast, then his creation would be complete. His makeshift hand was shining as strange runes flew around it. Shaking them off, he fired a strange-looking projectile that landed on the page. The earth began to quake and tremble. The image of the palace had been left unscathed as the paper around it burnt down. A tower began to rise from it…then another one, and then a wall between them. Another pair followed and two more afterwards, creating the main courtyard, with its imposing fortifications. One last tower arose, thicker and bigger than the other, and with a stranger shape, wider at the bottom and thinner at the top. As sudden as the ground started shaking, it calmed down, signaling the end of the 'creation'…

"Hmm. Kinda anticlimactic," he said as he flew at the entrance to see what he had made.

The gate of the castle opened with a loud thud, almost smashing him in the process. It was so masterfully designed, that it was half an inch away from grazing his forehead. The main hall was pretty mundane. Four other hallways opened up, two on each side, and a grand staircase with the trademark red carpet on it. Just flying past two doors, seeing the immense dining table behind, he realized what was on the ground floor. Just the basic rooms of any…extended living quarters. Without even inspecting the other two doors, he ventured upstairs.

He was disappointed to see the numerous bedrooms on every hallway, as if his new home was going to be some shelter for the souls of the many unfortunate. He wasn't going to run an orphanage…His disgust was immense as he saw the main bedroom, where he, a leader, was supposed to rest and plan...It was a monument of fluffiness, of puff and velvet. With a short pulse, he vilified the room, to better fit his view. Everything velvet, turned to leather, everything soft, turned rough. The bed had went from a monolith king size to a simple animal pelt-covered mattress. The walls were now the simple gray of the bricks, instead of the rich and colorful tapestry and the thick carpets were gone, leaving just the cold floor to be visible. Now, that was something he could feel comfortable in… Was that really all his work? It was despicable to him, such false beauty lying in pompous materials and pompons…

Disappointed he climbed back down and decided he should explore the last wing…perhaps he would find something he'd enjoy. And he was right… The barracks were exactly his piece of cake. The maces, the swords, the daggers, the shields were all there, waiting for him to stamp his coat of arms on it. In the room just across, he found the opposite, but a long favorite as well. It was where the spellbooks were stocked. He was like a child at a fair, grabbing every single toy from the shelf, yet knowing that they are not his. However, this time, they actually were. Ranging from the most basic to the most advanced, from ancient to contemporary, from darkest to purest, from Mewni to Underworld…This library had it all. He didn't need it at all, but should he rise an army, that would be the best place to start. That lead him to his next and last point on his bucket list…

"This seems like the room I'll be staying a lot in…"

He roamed the corridors between the bookshelves, searching for a book to start it all from. The fact that there were no labels amazed him…What kind of castle did he copy, where everything was so unorganized and so pompous…He grabbed a book, but threw it on the ground immediately, burning it with a blast. He decided to act exactly like an employer. Whatever book he laid eyes upon, yet wasn't of use would get destroyed, regardless of subject.

An enormous pile of ashes had formed behind him as he frantically searched for a single keyword. Literature had been the most affected, and Geography came in a close second…Books about music, culture, self-development got the same treatment….After many an hour of decimating years of work, he had finally spared a title. "The Written Trans-Dimensional Encyclopedia" was what caught his eye. Kicking the scorched remains of mediocre art, he headed for the reading table. The book was heavy and its cover hitting the rough wood, made the dust fly in swarms. He read the first word aloud:

"Mewni…Well, that's a stupid name. Let's see what this dimension has to offer for my needs…"

And so it all began…


	4. The Maze

The sun engulfed the castle with its golden rays, reflected by the bright steel left uncovered on the main cupola. It was the earliest time of the morning and no sound could be heard, not even the earliest bird's chirps. It was a silence as peaceful as it was terrifying. A big kingdom never sleeps, be it in times of war or peace. No lone merchant arranging his merchandise on the counter of the market, no beggar snoring loudly on the streets, no animal waking up faster than its owner to annoyingly spark up a debate against the others… It was uncommon for such a busy and buzzing place like Mewni. However, the loud explosion that followed this calm décor had reinstated the kingdom's usual state.

The noise came from the upper levels of the palace. It was a small room, with regular walls, up until now, as a human-shaped prominence appeared on the outside. It turned into a hole soon enough, as another shockwave made the rubble erupt and fall on the empty alleyway below. Scott almost fell through, if it weren't for Star's fast reaction. As he was about to plummet to his death, she summoned a little cloud for him to fall upon. After a few seconds, needed to recover from the shock, he sighed:

"Yeah, this isn't going to work out. I'm starting to see why your mother sent you to Earth, in the first place."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she replied obfuscated.

"Well, it depends on what you want to hear," he said groaning as he got down from the cloud and dusted his coat off. "Do you want to get mad at me for a day, or for a week?"

"Try me," she said, teasing him.

"Well, you are obviously unable to contain your power, nor control it, so your mother sent you away from her kingdom so you wouldn't destroy it, as you almost had in the moment that forcibly dragged her over the tipping point…"

"Ok, you went for the day way. Fair enough. But isn't this why we are doing this? You training me and taking shots like you were a crash test dummy?"

"Well, yes, but we won't be able to do it here, because I won't be working to fix this place up, only for you to gleefully destroy it afterwards. I made you breakfast. Go eat up and meet me on the rooftop."

"Ooooh, we're going on a trip?"

"You know it."

They parted ways, without asking anything else. Star wasn't the one to be incisive or curios in the way that she would raise objections and questions to everything that anyone said. She liked being surprised in any way whatsoever. Even the bad ones were a great experience for her, in the end. The smell guided her towards her destination…Scott's famous pancakes were resting on the table, already cut, drenched in maple syrup as she liked them and with that hint of butter, melting over the golden flapjacks. She saw a little note on the fork, something she began to see ever so rarely. It read:

"I hope you'll like them, because they are the sweetest thing of today. We have a rough day ahead of us. Little me thought that you'd enjoy a bit of sugar to start the pain."

She did enjoy her healthy, nutritious breakfast, thoroughly so. As she was munching the pancakes, making her way down the plate, a stray thought crossed her mind. She had seen Scott effortlessly parry, block and deflect her attacks, even the most powerful ones, as he had never been hit by a single blast of hers. But now, just after one measly Rainbow Destruction, he was almost knocked out the palace. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen him use magic for anything, whereas he used to abuse his powers. Star remembered a time, when he conjured a portal just to climb down the stairs. Now he walked everywhere… For a split-second she wondered whether he still had powers, but then dismissed that thought when she saw another note hanging on the knife she hadn't used at all.

"P.S. I hope you won't be gallivanting and you'll eat those as you usually do, because we are pretty much pressed by time. Enjoy your meal!"

Now, she knew he still had his magic, flowing through his veins, but that orphaned thought still found shelter somewhere in the corner of her mind. She wasn't quite convinced, but for now it sufficed. Letting the cleaning staff that just woke up, wash the dishes, she made her way to the rooftop, not forgetting to first go to her room to grab some essentials, for the trip that Scott made sound as some insane trek through dimensions. Unfortunately for her, she thought she still had her old room, not the emptiness she was left with after Toffee's attack. Dismayed as she was at the sight of the small mattress and the little window, she grabbed a small book from the makeshift bed, then closed the door behind her. The small pink booklet with the handwritten title on it: "Star's Notebook of Spells", spewed glitter with every step its lovely possessor took. She started climbing the numerous stairs to the roof, forgetting for a second, that her tiny purse she was carrying had swallowed a pair of dimensional scissors. Star did remember to hide her little creation in her bag right before she skipped over to the roof. A portal was opened already and her boyfriend stood right in front of it, his back turned to her.

"Helloooo," her voice drifted as she was glad to start a new adventure with him.

"Great, you're here. Put this on," Scott said handing her a blindfold.

"Oooh, so it's this kind of trip?" she said smirking.

"I'm an old man, I hadn't had this kind of social interaction in millennia, yet I still know the meaning of that, so I'm just going to reply with this," he said as he tied the black strip of cloth around her eyes. Instantly afterwards, she tried to make a step forward, marveling at how amazing it felt to not rely on sight in order to walk. It was somewhat freeing, to also be this high above, feel the smooth breeze go through her long hair, lifting it up to form a protective mane around her. However, a firm pull dragged her back to reality, as she felt her feet dangling weightlessly over a gap. Taking a peek, she saw the puny people underneath her, as they were mere points on the ground, seen from that height.

"Okay, lesson learnt, let's go in, shall we?" Scott said as he put her blindfold back on, grabbing her by the hand and stepping through the portal. Star was still unable to see a thing, but she let herself guided by him. Now, that she thought of it, he was pretty strong for his composure. She wasn't the heaviest person, taking pride in her thin allure, yet still, being able to hold her in the air with just one hand, while she was dangling above her death was no easy feat.

"Now, stay there, and wait for instructions. And don't remove your blindfold! That's critical," Scott's voice faded away as he was getting farther and farther away, from her, leaving her in nothing but silence. The same eerie calm that reigned over the late-sleeping Mewni. She was blind and, no noise was made by anything around her, as if the room she was in was soundproofed. That was a new feeling, that of loneliness. Unable to use her senses to locate anything around her was making her uncomfortable. She started tapping her feet on the floor, in an attempt to ward off this sentiment that was slowly corrupting her. Since the rhythmic beat of her rhino boots stomping the ground were starting to be dampened by the quiet of the chamber, she began to hum, further trying to shield herself from this bizarre feeling…When that commenced to fail as well, she couldn't bear this anymore.

"Hey, Scott you still there?"

No answer. She yelled again, to be faced by the lack of echo of the walls around her. Shaking, she walked forward, minding her every step, as she knew there was no hand that was going to save her, should she be falling again. Something inside her told her this was another test of Scott. That dastardly boyfriend of hers was nothing but an enigma to her, but his feats were annoyingly predictable and clear…This idea of hers however was at war with this unbearable feeling of loneliness. What if something happened to him? What if this was the worst case scenario in which things started rolling downhill and Scott was now overpowered by some monster and she was wandering around blindfolded like an idiot. There was no clear winner of this cold war, raging chillingly inside her, yet she made the decision to go with the more believable side. How could her all-powerful lover succumb to the strength of anyone?

Her sense of hearing completely useless in this graveyard silence, she had to rely on touch. Before making any step forward, she would test the ground in front of her, so she wouldn't fall for any hazard that would happen. Star was advancing, making progress, albeit slowly. She flailed her arms around, trying to get a feeling of her surroundings. No walls to be found. She kept going and going, in this darkness…Another dreadful thought crossed her mind. How much did she travel? What if Scott wanted her to wait there, while he returned and now he lost her? And the poor soul was trying to search for her through this unseen maze? She wanted to remove her blindfold, to see this shrouded place that struck fear into her, for a strangely unknown reason. However, the second she tried to untie the knot, Scott's words rumbled through her head, echoing loudly: "That's critical!"

This unfamiliar setting was starting to get to her. Come to think of it, she hadn't been left alone in the dark, before. And the fact that she was forced to keep the darkness on was slowly driving her mad. One thing was for sure, though. She had to keep going. Until she would have to stop, it was best if she walked forward. She decided that she knew Scott well enough to face facts. This was one of his tests. He said that she was sent away so that her kingdom wouldn't face her reckless behavior. Now he was trying her, and she was going to prove him wrong at last. She wasn't going to use magic to get through this trial, because that was going to be her failure. Star knew she couldn't handle her spells well enough to succeed with it, so she had to do it without them.

Suddenly, she hit a wall. No way around it, so she had to go next to it. If the mountain's too steep, go around it, as the ancient saying goes. Her head was imbued with so many other ideas of her situation…But the best was for her not to let them get the best of her. Stubborn, she just kept on hugging the rough wall…it had an odd texture, rugged and...It was a tree. She gave herself a mental slap on the forehead as she finally figured out how bright her situation was. Trees don't grow outdoors, do they? So Scott took her into the woods for some sort of training, trying to cheat her senses into thinking she was inside a maze, all along. But she showed him! She saw right through his plan. With a smile on her face, she kept walking forward this immense father of all trees. It was interminable, as she had waddled around it for quite a while now…

She was so calm now, being the master of her own 'fate' once again. She wasn't thinking that a forest doesn't have such an even ground. She wasn't thinking that a tree cannot grow that large, not even in the Forest of Certain Death. She wasn't thinking that there is no forest in the world where there isn't a continuous cacophony of bird chirps, elk stomping the ground with their hooves, rivers flowing and the rustling leaves of the trees, caressed by the gentle breeze. Most importantly, forests aren't empty, so that you can wander around without bumping into anything… But she didn't care. She was rejoicing in her newfound peace.

The sound of bricks being dislodged from a wall, had brought her back to her senses. Whereas she was now gleefully skipping across her 'forest', now she was back in the maze. Someone was now behind her, breathing heavily…For a split-second she was unfazed, only to become full alert, once that person spoke.

"Star!" Scott said, using every ounce of power he had to yell her name.

"What?" Star replied scared, yet somewhat innocent.

"Run!" he continued. She then heard a thud, followed by another, slightly quieter.

She was about to remove her blindfold, in her terror, but again, his words echoed in her mind: "That's critical!" Seeming that she had figured out his plan…once again, Star stopped short and turned to him, looking at her boyfriend through the opaque fabric.

"Yeah, I am not that stupid…You're only doing this to test me, you cheeky mastermind. Well, guess what I saw through your web of lies and deception, and I figured out your plan. So I won't take off this blindfold, until you expressly tell me to. Also, next time you're trying to evaluate me, you can give me a heads-up first…" she ended her plea, saddened.

"Star…" he started in-between groans and ragged breaths, "I love you…and I would never subject you to such…an insidious trial…Take off that fold and run!" he ended, with another series of thuds following.

Heeding his instruction, she finally saw where she was. It was a bright white room, unfurnished. The wall next to her was painted to look like tree bark, while those behind her were clear mirrors, spotless. Scott was lying at the end of the 'forest' leaning against a wall, bleeding profusely. She rushed to him, only to be greeted with a silent protest from him, only for the wounded boy to faint, pointing at something behind her… She didn't notice that as she fondled with her wand, trying to jog her memory for a healing spell…She was so distraught, she didn't hear the heavy footsteps behind her. The first time she recoiled was when she felt a cold, metallic hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you like what I did to your friend here?" a windy voice asked calmly. Star jumped like a cat on steroids and raised her wand towards the new kid on the block. She hadn't seen the intriguing character in front of her ever before, yet he seemed oddly familiar. Still Star had to ask:

"Who are you?"

"I don't know really. I have my goals, and my means set up, yet a name has evaded my bucket list. Call me however you want. What's this puny minion of yours' name?" he said pointing to her boyfriend's unconscious body.

"His name is Scott…" she wanted to continue, but he interrupted her.

"Great, then here shall be my name," he replied, spawning a large book that fell before her. It rapidly flipped its own pages, showing they were all blank.

"Don't worry it's going to be there soon enough. Now tell me, my dear," the white-haired-guy, as Star creatively named him in her head, said, fading out of existence, then back in behind her. She could feel his cold hand on her lower back, and a phantom touch on her shoulder. Disgusted and creeped out, she jumped, repeating her reaction from earlier.

"Oh, jumpy, I see. Interesting. So, tell me, little lady…Do you like being so powerful?"

"I…I don't get it…"

"Great, then let me explain my purpose," he said, removing his cape, while bowing down. "So, I am birthed from nothing that I can recall of, and I have chosen my goal, probably in a former life. But I know it…it's ineffable, yet I have a firm grasp on it…Now, what can you tell about me?"

"You're evil…and powerful…and mad."

"True. Immeasurable power drives one insane and there cannot be such strength without it being evil, therefore I am the embodiment of all that is malevolent. However, as great as I am, I cannot succeed by myself…I need allies, armies, strategies, battles, wars, because how else may I slay my foes?"

"As you did with him…"

"Oh, he is not dead, but I wish he were. Weakness is the only thing I despise, and he reeks of it."

"He is the most powerful person, I know…How can you say that?" Her troubled look contrasted with his devious smirk. He knew something she didn't…

"I'll let you find out on your own. Back to my speech…How about I make you a deal? How about you renounce your petty little limiting good-doing and join me in my cause?"  
"You have no cause..."

"Becoming the most powerful isn't a cause?"

"It's a goal, it's an accomplishment, for you, but it's not a cause…Besides, why should I do that? Why should I join a delusional mind like yours for a selfish purpose?"

"Indeed…No point in that is it? Fair enough…I will return with another deal later on. Until then you should tend to your little boyfriend's wounds," he said as he turned to mist and passed right through her.

With no time to waste, she rushed to Scott's side and reminded the exact spell she needed in order to heal him. It was cool for her to save him. Now they were even. After a few minutes of channeling her energy into nursing him back to health, he finally woke up, albeit still bloody.

"What…happened?"

"Ummm, you remember the guy you told me to run from?"

"Yeah…He…he is something I should've told you about some time ago…I'll unfortunately have to say it in front of the Commission as well, so…Tell me about him."

"Well…We've never met someone like him…"

"Speak for yourself, there, but go on."

"He…he is powerful. Overpowered, might I say. But he isn't full evil, like Toffee was. Or that might be just my impression. He was deceitful, mad, completely enslaved by his need to achieve his goal."

"To be the most powerful."

"Right…What can we do about him?"

"Nothing, for now. I'll have to do some extensive research in order to fully understand what the heck I unleashed upon this world. Let's go, now," Scott said groaning, as he rose to his feet and opened a portal. Star saw a small shiny thing in his hand, but caught only a small glimpse of it…

"Hey, Scott?"

"What's wrong?"

"Well…how did he manage to defeat you so easily?"

"He didn't. He caught me by surprise and the second I was about to strike him back, he backstabbed me, then threw me through the wall."

"Didn't you have, like, amazing reflexes?"

"As amazing as they are, I can't predict everything. Come now, we must not waste any more time."

And with that they stepped inside and the portal closed behind them. The book still remained behind, five letters starting to be scratched into the book's cover…"Britt".

Star had much to think that night. Nothing made sense. Every way she looked at this, something didn't fit. Scott didn't help her grasp the situation, as he answered in the vaguest and most evasive manner. Why did he behave like that was completely unknown to her, but still, she was determined to find out what was going on with her boyfriend…


	5. Meetings

"What is the purpose of this sudden meeting, Scott?" the Queen asked after all the members of the Commission that were accounted for had gathered. Hekapoo was still nowhere to be seen and Glossaryck was on his journey, therefore only Omnitraxus, Rhombulus and her were present."

"Well, I wanted to tell you about a…mishap of mine," Scott said disappointed. He was so, because of two things. For one, he had to confess to a mistake he had made, the first time in his life, for that matter, and, Star was right behind the big door of the conference room, eavesdropping on their conversation. To sum it up, he was going to fall in the eyes of all of them. Not the thing you do with the easiest heart. But, nonetheless, he had to do that, otherwise he would have to face the new evil-doer all by himself, which, based on past events, was out of his reach.

"And what is that…?" the Queen asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, remember when I came back at the last fight, when Toffee was storming the castle?"

"Yeah, you were revived and came in our time of need, tipping the scales in our favor, and securing the victory of good, once and for all," she replied, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Colorfully put and hyperbolized… Truth be told, I think I owe you an explanation as to what happened there," he said standing up and going to look out the window, gazing at the place where a black hole, sucking magic energy, used to be. "You see, in order to be resurrected, you need to die in the first place. After that fateful trial, I had been pardoned by that immense titan you had seen when I actually passed away, struck by Toffee's attack. He, Hyperion as he is called among his kin, had chosen to imprison me somewhere, in a place that exists beyond space and time, where I would spend my eternity in pitch darkness, possibly being driven mad as ages passed. I was knocked out by the transition between the courtroom and my prison, and when I woke up, I had a few moments of loneliness, when he had made his echoing, grave voice heard. He made me a deal…I couldn't refuse, given the circumstances, that you yourself can see for yourself," Scott said turning to the Queen, spotting Star as she was peeking through the half open door, poking her blonde head through the small space. With a glare from him, the curios princess silently closed the door, not noticed by anyone but him.

"What was the deal?" Rhombulus asked inquisitive, with a childish interest in the situation he didn't care for that much.

"Well, here comes the kicker. Do you know what my original purpose was in this world?"

"I never thought of that, but, now that you mention it, I don't know. Is it to safeguard us, the royal family?"

"No, that is just how I chose to do my job. My duty was to keep Evil and Good in balance, none overpowering the other for an amount of time, that would make even the intervention, of one as myself, completely useless. Since Evil is known to flourish, develop and grow faster than Good, we have chosen to do our bidding by choosing the most powerful force of Good and…upgrade it. Glossaryck had chosen to be bound to a book, while I chose to be bound to nothing, leaving me a more fluid member between the two of us."

"So, this means that when…we have lost our 'Good' ways, did you leave us?"

"It's a bit more complicated, but that is not why I called you here, Moon. Point is I was judged for losing my ways, becoming, more 'Good' than I was allowed to. The proposal Hyperion made was for me to continue being what I have become, since I was already beyond the point of no-return, but he couldn't let the scales take such a hard blow…I think you can see where I'm going with this, right?"

"I have a horrid feeling, but maybe I am mistaken. Go on," she replied, her expression changing from the neutral look of a bored queen, to the frown of the ruler whose kingdom was going to falter due to the mistake of an arrogant minion.

"He…he had to bring an evil into this world…one as powerful and resourceful as I…am," Scott continued. The awkward pause had been glossed over by the Queen, yet Star took note of it, but she couldn't understand what the meaning behind it was.

"And that evil is…" the Queen asked raising from her comfortable seat. She was troubled, because the news of another battle was coming at the worst moment for her. Mewni wasn't even close to being back in working order and nowhere near able to support the rage of another war. Yet a thought crossed her mind…She was the Queen, before all else, and the safety and well-being of her people was her utmost priority. The Magic High Commission was founded by the three most powerful magic beings in the universe, and it was all in order for Mewmans to better understand magic. This...this wasn't their war, until this new evil was going to strike Mewni…For the time being she put her idea on the backburner, ready to listen to the boy's explanations, before making a decision.

"That evil has attacked me and Star, when we were out to train. He…he managed to get the upper hand and strike me when I did not expect, but Star was unaffected and unharmed. However…This event cannot be left unattended to, Queen. But further research is needed before we can decide what we should do."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. This vague answer was rendering her incapable of making up her mind…She had to wait as well.

"Is this all?" she asked, cold, seemingly forgetting what Scott had done in the past for Mewni.

"Yes, I just wanted to come clean. I will be going on a recon operation. Please, inform Glossaryck of what I have told you, should he pass through Mewni. Also, while I'm gone, I hope that you could get in touch with Hekapoo. Ever since the great battle, we haven't seen her at all, and we need to have our guard up at all times. Best we at least know where she is, before we are sorry she hadn't joined us."

"Thank you for your time, Scott."

"I should be the one thanking you, Queen," he said, getting up to leave, "after all, you took it pretty well," he added with a sincere, grateful smile. He had no idea what she was thinking about his whole…mishap. Without any other exchange between them, Scott left, being very attentive to cover the loose strands of blonde hair, that Star had forgot to hide from plain sight. She greeted him with a sad smile, and a question.

"What where those mysterious conversations you talked about, back there?"

"Well, I couldn't leave you without any sort of protection, could I now?"

"Just that…?" she said somewhat disappointed in the answer. She wanted something else out of him…

"Yeah…I've carried that torch for a long time, Star. I mixed my personal life with my duty and I screwed up big time at that, but at least," he said putting his arm on her shoulder, "I got something great out of it."

It took a lot for her not to 'aww' so she wouldn't give away her presence to her mother. But she replied with a hug, a gesture worth a thousand words, in her book, at least. It was brief, however, as he pulled away faster than expected. This is the reason why Star gave her boyfriend a lost puppy look.

"Sorry, but I have to go…Fixing my wrongs can't start with making another." That was the last thing he said, before splitting up, breaking the building's no magic rule by opening a portal to his mission. The same metallic shine caught her eye, in the same position as before, his wrist. She didn't care much for that as she had something else planned, so the exit was her destination, but…

"I don't know what to do here, Rhombulus…" Moon said walking around the room, nervously. Star split open the door, to eavesdrop on their little after talk. Rhombulus noticed her, but with an universal gesture, she begged him to keep silent, and just go about his regular business.

"On the one hand, he helped us throughout the course of so many generations, aiding us in our lowest, supporting us in our highest, but on the other hand…He has changed, ever since that fateful night…"

"What do you mean, Queen?" Rhombulus asked the question for both him and Star.

"Well, ever since he, ahem, joint our side, officially, he had…lost what made him a valuable addition to our army…He used to be cold, distant, sharp, focused and he knew exactly what to do in every situation. Granted, he still retains his qualities, they seem to be severely impaired…tainted in a way. Nowadays, he just seems lost, despite trying his best to keep his composure…"

"Hey, Scott's a nice guy. He is the only one who actually sees me as more than a…child. He helps me with repairing the castle…"

"So? This doesn't invalidate my point. Besides, there is this mistake, that might cost me more than I can bargain…"

"And what's that, Moon?"

"Well, we're rebuilding the palace now, focusing on the essentials so Mewni can actually work. There are still a lot of residences to be repaired, and we need to replant a lot of the cornfields, our only source of income. Point is, we just got out of a war, I can't see myself going into another, especially with someone with the power and resources of Scott."

"What do you mean…?"

"I'm saying that…this war isn't mine, for the moment. I intend to keep it out of my kingdom's business for as long as I can. The least I interfere with this situation, the less probable I will be the target of another battle, I cannot fight at the moment." She stopped to look out the window, a pose that she usually struck leaning over the balcony back at her castle. " My people need to stay out of this so their wounds have time to heal…I can't do this to them. I'm considering…"

"Not helping Scott?" Star said, suddenly stepping in, dismayed.

"Star!? What are you doing here?"  
"You're not going to help him out, after all he's done?" she yelled from the doorframe.

"Look, Star…you don't understand," she said approaching her enraged daughter.

"I understand that you're thinking of staying in your fancy castle, while he has to fight another evil all on his own?"

"Well…I'm not doing this because I want, Star…"  
"Seriously? Because it surely seems like it. Isn't it a decision you make, not that you're forced to do?"

"Look, before everything, before I am a member of this Commission, I am the queen of Mewni, and as queen, I need to put the safety and prosperity of my people above all else…"

"What if Mewni is attacked, huh? Will you step up then?"

"Obviously, but until that, I'm afraid I must remain neutral, Star. I won't be able to help, and unfortunately…you won't be able either."

"WHAT?!"

"I'm also before everything else your mother, and your safety is my number one priority. I can't risk that you get hurt in a war that's not even ours. I'm sorry but, I will have to forbid you to join him in this battle. I hope you understand it's for your own good…and that you will…" Star had already stormed out the conference room, causing the queen to sigh. She hoped her not princess-like daughter would rise above such clichéd exits.

"You're not very good at this parenting thing, are you?" Rhombulus asked innocently, but unfortunately his naiveté was not pardoning his daring, and sent Moon in her royalty enraged state.

"And what do you know about this, mind I ask?"

"Well, you can't just impose a lifestyle to your kid. You did this when you tried to set her in your ways, sending her to Earth to avoid shipping her in a bag towards St. Olga's, forcing her to partake in Song Day and now this. Plus, let's not forget how you feel about her and Scott."

"Ex-cuse me?"

"Come on, Moon, why are you doing this? You tried to do this with that devilish guy, two years ago. They really had a thing going on, and you planted the seed of discord between them. You fueled his only flaw, knowing full well the extent of his rage. You didn't stop at that, you actually talked to the Lucitor kingdom so they knew exactly what to do, in order to not trigger you. Face it, Moon, you just want Star to be like you. Proper, prim, undaunted, all those other adjectives. You desperately try to keep her on your road, despite having learnt time and time again that she won't comply, even if the circumstances are dire. Every time someone enters her life, threatening to change the course you had set for her, you just remove them, physically or mentally. That devilish dude, the earthling, and now Scott, they all follow the same suit. And even though Glossaryck had told you the same thing, you still didn't learn and are going on the same path, again. And then you wonder why she is who she is, why the disappointments appear, and how the successes come…You just can't understand such a simple concept, and this is why, Moon, things are how they are."

Rhombulus stopped, after taking his sulking to the masses in crescendo. He was breathing heavily, facing the baffled queen who had no idea how come a childish magical being like him could be capable of such deep analysis. It wasn't easy to be faced with the truth, but unfortunately, she knew that she was too far gone to change…They stood in silence in front of one another, not even blinking, both trying to see where things were going from there…The answer was not going to come soon.

Back in the castle, Star had pressed the emergency friend meeting on her phone. However, she realized that some of them, if not all, were pretty... hard to account for, given the history. Since she had left Earth, she had hardly kept in touch with any of her friends, be them from Mewni or not. Plus, after Pony Head was replaced by Marco, in a way, she had no one else but Scott to relate to. Perhaps sending that message wasn't the best way to get back in touch with people, but now the deed was done. She searched for her dimensional scissors and cut open a portal…to Earth.

Echo Creek sure seemed different. The summer provided the perfect makeover for the town, only to then be obliterated by the autumnal aroma of the season. She walked on the streets she used to prance alongside Marco, who at the time was her best friend, but now was a mere spot on her mind. Where should she be, waiting to see if anyone would show up…A coffee shop was good, given that the fall had already crippled the land. Only then, she realized that she didn't specify a location for their meet-up…After remediating the situation with another helpful message, she stood there, like a smurf playing basketball. Completely out of place. Bored as she was waiting for her, hopefully still, friends, she spotted a known figure, just grabbing two pumpkin spiced coffees and placing them on a festive tray. She didn't realize that the Halloween she had celebrated before, was this early. Anyway, she tried to make herself as unnoticed as possible, only not to be spotted by Jackie…who spotted her nonetheless.

"Star? What are you doing here?" she asked approaching the princess with a wide smile on her face.

"Well…I don't know really…I wanted to meet up with some people, then I realized I couldn't do that if I weren't on Earth, then I forgot to tell them where and…what are you doing?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm grabbing some supplies, for tonight. We got this big project at school and we will have to burn some of that midnight fuel."

"You're actually caring about school? And who is we?"

"Well, those are answered with one word," Jackie replied smirking.

"Oooooh, I get it now…Marco."

"Bingo," she said, fingerbanging towards Star. "He should be here any moment now."

"Wait, what?" Star said instantly terrified. She knew exactly what happened between them, and now, when her plate was full…now wasn't the best time to sort that out. Trying not to be rude, she got up and headed towards the exit…The fact that she gave no motivation for this, however had caused the exact situation she was trying to avoid. Pair that with the fact that when she got out, Marco was on the pavement right across, whistling, lost in his joyful world, and you get a loveable conundrum. Thankfully, a portal opened right near her, with Pony Head and Kelly coming out of it. With one swift movement, she grabbed both of them and shoved them back where they came from, disappearing inside the very same portal as it faded away…

Marco entered the coffee shop, seemingly unaware of the fact that there was some strong magic used right near the entrance. Eh, who cared about that, he was in his world, finally spending an interesting night with his girlfriend, except for…a peculiar sleepover.

"Hey, Marco!" Jackie saluted him as he walked past her, unaware of her presence. That's the effect of joy.

"Woah, hi-ho Jackie-o."

"You're trying to sound western or something?"

"Well, it only seems appropriate given that our project is about the 19th century, the 'Cowboy era'. You got the stuff?"

"You sound like a drug dealer now, but yeah. Two pumpkin spiced lattes, extra milk for you, and no sugar for me."

"Great…Anything new today? You didn't call back today."  
"Well, I was busy. I had to run some errands for my dad, something about some money he had to pay back to my uncle. And, yes, as a matter of fact, guess who I just ran into."

"I don't know…Britney? Janna?"

"That's it, you're done trying?"

"Yeah, I have no idea, so I just pulled some names out of the hat. So who is this elusive person?"

"Well, it's your former…" she was interrupted by Janna and Starfan13 ringing the door's bell. The two joined them in an instant, Janna checking her phone, while Starfan13 was looking like she had the time of her life.

"Hey, guys, what are you doing here?"

"We're looking for St…" Starfan13 answered swiftly and excitedly, but she couldn't finish as Janna covered her mouth shut, showing her the phone with the message: "Don't let Marco know I was there. Meet me at the graveyard in 10." Delivered two minutes ago, read right then and coming from none other than Star.

"State of the art facilities…Such as this," she said, raising the Styrofoam cup that Marco was drinking from, causing him to let out a displeased 'Hey!'

"Cool. Hey did you know that St…" Jackie tried asking, but got interrupted by Janna, again.

"Steve broke his leg at a football game when the guest's quarterback accidentally tackled him? Poor guy, I know, we should go sign his cask. Come Starfan13, we gotta go!" she said, grabbing the girl shaking with joy and exiting the coffe shop.

"Weird. So what were you going to tell me?" Marco asked after the dynamic duo was gone.

"Huh…I don't remember. Anyway, we should go. It's getting late and we got a lot to do!" Jackie said, grabbing the cup holder.

"Right. Vamos!" Marco said channeling his family's roots.

And with that, the coffee shop had closed. The two were the last customers…


	6. The Fight

Scott wasn't used to being restrained. Nor to sitting down. The chair he was forced against was simple, two planks of wood, four sticks, just as he had millennia ago. However, this didn't bring back any warm home memories, because he was there more or less against his will. It was a good opportunity, but at the same time it was a sea of unknown. He let himself be captured in his 'recon' mission, just so he can dip down in the mindset of the mysterious persona of their assailant. For the time being, all was good. He was still alive, which based on the statement he heard was lucky. He didn't struggle to escape, but rather he was more interested where he was. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember what he did to get there. He recalls going through a portal to a…side dimension, where he had stockpiled some things for when things got dire. A magic detecting rune was taking the prize, being put in the most hidden place, and it was exactly what he used to find this elusive character. The last thing he can see clearly in his memory is a continuous building, stretching from the ground to the ceiling of crimson clouds above, after that, a sharp pain in the back of his head, knocked him out and he woke up in his cell, if it could be called that.

It was a small, yet spacious room, candle-lit because it didn't seem electricity ran anywhere near the castle. He expected this. Not even the Butterfly kingdom had this facility and it was the most advanced of them all. A small table was resting in front of him, wobbling to defy his lack of movement. The walls were plastered with silk tapestries, contrasting with the overall simplicity of the chamber, and luxurious furs were hanging from the ceiling…It seemed like the kind of enclosure that wants to go both ways, bland, yet intriguing, basic, yet pompous, a room for storage, yet suited for living as well, despite the lack of a bed. The door was the most important element in finding its purpose, though. A solid metal door, with a little hatch on the bottom and that is heavily bolted to the wall, only being able to be slid open. It was meant to kept things in, things that desperately want to get out. As his gaze fell upon the guardian of his freedom, the metallic clank, followed by the rails' screech announced that someone was about to come in.

He had no idea who his interlocutor was going to be, because he only heard his voice, not having seen his face once. Therefore, it was unpleasant to hear the same rugged, rough tone coming out from that most…special figure.

"Oh, you're still alive. Thought I'd bring your lifeless husk here so I can ornate my trophy room with it. You would have made a fine, first piece…"

"Why'd you tie me up then? If you thought I was dead, this gesture is gratuitous," Scott replied, pointing out the inconsistency in his remark.

"Argh, you got me!" he exclaimed grinning. "Weak, but far from stupid, I see. Oh, well. You won't get out of here alive in any way, so might as well see what you are, minion," he continued, contempt radiating from his voice.

"Bring it on." Scott calmly replied. Despite being a lot more human, now, fear was not something he felt often, only when he feels like his life was threatened, and there was something that made him feel as if his warden wasn't planning on killing him. He spawned a chair to sit on and, from across the little table, he asked, demanding:

"Name!"

"You know it, but I don't know yours."

"I do? Oh, right…your face looks familiar. You're that puny minion, the, ugh," he spat in disgust, "lover of that amazing being…Stock, was it?"

"Scott. Close enough. I suppose you're so superior, you can't be bothered to remember the name of the meek?"

"Exactly. Nor do I feel the need to state mine to them."

"Still, you heard mine, then decided upon yours, am I right?"

"It was a spur of the moment, I'll give you that. Indeed, I've chosen my name just to be opposite to yours, only to have it stricken in her memory."

"The opposite of Scott? Since when this has a contrary? Unless…You went for something about Britain, right?"

"Britt. Close enough," he chuckled as he copied Scott's voice.

"This must mean you're familiar with Earth and, what's more, the vast history of its peoples."

"Deductive, are we, now mister? Now you have my undivided attention. Up until you've struck me with this little detail, I was busy planning the next 'diplomatic mission.'"

"You are a diplomat? Barging in people's plans and threatening to kill them, while fatally injuring others doesn't strike me as the most tactful action."

"I tend to be…persuasive," he paused for dramatic effect." You either are with me, or against me, and after I showcase my immeasurable power, the meek tend to change their opinions, on the spot."

"Oh, I am sorry that I had to bother you with my bafflingly high level of intelligence. Please, proceed with your deep thoughts."

"Sarcasm is for winners, Scott," he said summoning a small pipe. "And, sincerely, being restrained and at my mercy, isn't a victory in my book."

"Being captured on purpose is, though, in mine, albeit, but still a victory."

"And it won't be," Britt continued the charade, lighting up his pipe. "Unless you somehow have a plan to escape, which, oh, surprise, surprise, you don't."

"I do, and it will work, I can guarantee you that."

"Doubtfully. Now that I have closed this parenthesis, let's get back on track, shall we? Next on my list, next on my list…Occupation!"

"For the time being, or do you want a résumé?" Scott asked, keeping his irony strong.

"Let's go for the entire history of your employment. You seem like fourteen, so I guess I won't hear anything but schoolwork."

"Yeah. I strike you as a regular human, don't I?"

"Indeed. You are as usual as the air you breathe."

"This is why you have been slightly surprised to see that I was together with princess Butterfly, as she was busy learning spells, nonetheless, right?"

"I'm surprised you didn't wet your pants when I threw you through that wall, and that you're still having a constant pulse. My amazement is easy to spark."

"You're more consternated as to how I got in that world in the first place, right?"

"Kid, I've been in this universe for four months, and had time to research ever so little about where I am. From what I've gathered, you're an earthling, princess Butterfly, as you called her, is a mewnian, and those two worlds haven't intertwined until about a year ago, following some sort of exile…"

"And humans are regarded as the weakest of the bunch, only superior to badgers from the homonymous dimension, whereas mewnians are on the top of the food chain, second only to pure magic beings, despite sometimes surpassing them. You're bewildered by the fact that I, a weakling, have managed to break so many laws of my dimension and made contact with, what accounts to an alien. Is that correct?"

"Yes. Proceed," he said, puffing his pipe in front of Scott who coughed hardly. He was used to clear air, and hated smoking both as a habit and as a need. Plus the gesture was mean-spirited, given his devious smirk.

"Great. Now, hold on to that pipe of yours, because what I'm going to say may kick you off the chair. I'm fourteen, yes. Fourteen hundred years old. During this time, I've been given the task to keep the balance of the world, aided by my partner, who is, at the moment, the strongest purely magical being in this world."

"The only kick I feel is from you, and it's an assault on my brain, relentless strikes of stupidity. Humans don't even live past a century, most don't even see half of one, and you expect me to believe you somehow lived through fourteen? That is only achieved through a life-preserving spell, or an age-stopping rune, both of which you don't even know of, I'll bet."

"I've got that rune, stashed in a side dimension, but I also know that spell. However, I didn't use neither to live this long."

"Okay, let me get into this game of yours, 'special' kid, and ask you…How did you make it to this impressive age?"

"Well, I have been granted immortality of course."

"Mhm…sure. Let's see, who did it? Little baby Jesus? Or no, perhaps you believe in Buddha? Allah? Confucius?"

"Does the name Hyperion strike you?"

The second he finished his sentence, the pipe had shattered on the floor, alongside his ribs, as Scott was thrown into the wall behind him. The chair didn't survive the force of the blast, neither did his restraints, yet he, somehow was still clinging on to life. His mouth was filled with the bitter blood running through his remaining intact veins, and his vision was getting blurry. He almost passed out, but a firm palm had brought him back to consciousness. The sarcasm was still buried deep inside of him.

"Struck a nerve, there?"  
"WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT NAME?"

"Oh…Hyperion? Well, he was my employer and my benefactor as well. He gave me immortality, and an unique set of skills to help me in my job."

Britt threw Scott back where the chair was, moping the floor with his face. Then, with a swift spell cast, he levitated him from underneath the table, holding him floating in the air.

"Impossible. His work is one of the most durable and powerful there is. He gave me my abilities, and I am the strongest there can be! You smell like weakness from a mile."

"And yet, what…I said…is true," Scott said calmly, despite he realized he must've overplayed his hand. Fear was starting to break his bones…But he was too far gone now, and dropping the act, might hint Britt off. He had to keep his confidence up, or else he was screwed. His voice was tremored, but his terror was masked by his injuries.

"LIES!" Britt answered, starting to strengthen the grip on his hand and feet. Scott started feeling numb, as the blood fled from his extremities.

"How else, do you…think I was able…to purge good…and evil alike…when they were as…strong as you?"

"Humph. Indeed," Britt said, dropping him off. Strangely he landed on a luxurious armchair, the same that his interlocutor had. In an instant, his vision was no longer blurry and his numbness faded away. The cracked ribs were fixed under his very eyes, and the blood in his mouth was running through his spotless arteries.

"Great, I've got your occupation, Scott. One last thing. Goal?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do you strive for? What is your end purpose?"

"Oh…that kind of goal. Well, I'm a relentless power of 'Good' now. I want all that is Evil to perish. This includes you, my dear."

"Hold on!" Britt said, respawning his pipe and puffing it in Scott's face again. "You're a power of 'Good'? Doesn't that contradict with your role?"

"Oh, here comes the good part. I have slowly drifted towards this imperfection, towards this plague of 'Good', so much that I have pledged allegiance to it, so now, here we are, Britt. I am who I am, what I am and you…are."

"Excuse me? I've existed…"

"For a trimester, four months almost. That's right. You're born from my mistake, an evil birthed from good, and it is my duty to purge you off this world, do you understand?"

"Intriguing. But clarify the following aspect to me, you snarky kid," he said raising from his comfortable seat and glaring at Scott as if his doom was inbound, "For this all to happen, you have to have a certain strength…You are weak, as the average human…Why is that?"

"Because it's true. I have no powers, not anymore at least. You see, when the order for your creation was given, I was still the second most powerful being in this universe. You have been made to be my polar opposite, yet bear the same skills as I do, so as to make the fight between 'Good' and 'Evil' as equal as possible. As the universe isn't forgiving of mishaps, I had lost my powers after I had been killed, then resurrected, so now, I'm left to be facing you with nothing but my bare hands."

Britt calmly sat down again, smoking his pipe. After a few seconds he started laughing, his hysterical cries echoing throughout his entire palace. His amusement was only surpassed by his anger. In an instant, he created a knife and blinked behind Scott. The poor kid could feel the cold, magic imbued steel, ready to slit his throat.

"You? You alone are going to defeat ME? You'd need an army only for me, and another one for the people I have rallied and plan to rally to my cause. I don't see how a puny human like you, vulnerable to such weapons," he said shaking his dagger," could even come close to moving a strand of my hair."

"Well, you are missing one aspect." Scott was calmer than usual. He had carefully laid his plan in front of the villain, whose mind was supposed to be superior to his, and he had fallen in the first bear trap he set. Now, the only thing he had to do was pull the trigger.

"And what is that?"

"We are polar opposites…I know myself, therefore I know you…your strengths are my weaknesses and your weaknesses are my strengths. This gives us both the edge, and takes it away as well. Powers or not, we are as equal as we can be, so no one will come on top…Only what we did from the moment we have been created can differentiate us. Our decisions are our flaws and our qualities. Let's see who had made the better ones, shall we?" Scott ended his moving speech. Britt didn't budge, though. He started pacing across the small room, smiling wickedly.

"You're preaching such stupidities, but I won't get into that, now, because the time is nigh. Let me tell you something about your choices. You have voluntarily offered yourself to be preyed upon. You came in my nest and are at my mercy. What you have so carelessly volunteered is nothing more but the reason why your blood shall wet my immaculate floor." As he ended his answer, he stopped right behind Scott, this time drawing a sword, seemingly from another dimension. "You have one last request. Use it carefully."

"Great. Would you mind shaking my hand? I want to know that I made amends to my killer and that my death is honorable." Scott was holding back a devilish grin.

"No. I know how this goes. You think I don't feel that rune you had hidden there? It will incapacitate me for a brief moment and now since your restraints are removed you'll use that opportunity to escape, while I will regain my powers to severely wound you, point where I would have wasted a perfectly good opportunity to kill you, while you gained some farfetched character development and, your choices would make you superior to me. Think of something else."

That was the moment Scott's cold blood turned to a hot soup, as his carefully laid scheme had just crumbled in one swift go. Sweat starting dropping in buckets from his forehead, and Britt saw it. The villain couldn't hold himself…He was rejoicing in Scott's pain. Now, he had to think in the following seconds, before his nervousness could be interpreted as the last emotion of a dying man, how he could save his skin. Scott knew Britt's patience wasn't a thing to be under or overestimated…

"Well? You have no other plan left for me to foil? Come on, you seemed like an intelligent kid…Killing you isn't going to be fun, now, it's just going to be my job…You made it from something I liked to do to something I'm forced to do…Can't you think of anything else?"  
Scott couldn't hear him. He was lost in thought, but his terror was petrifying him, paralyzing his neurons, so they wouldn't come up with a salutary idea. He had only picked up the word fun, which was now ringing inside his mind, echoing louder and louder, reminding him of the inhuman laughter of his soon-to-be killer. It was all a game for him…He was as cliché as all the other villains he had encountered, be it in books or in real life. All power hungry. All bored by their opponents, searching for a challenge, rather than an easy win. He was giving him a chance, and Scott couldn't make it his salvation…

"Oh, fine, be stubborn. Makes your death all the more boring," Britt said raising his sword, preparing to strike. The world was moving in slow motion for Scott. Frame-by-frame, he had gotten through the scene of the last hit he would take. No one left to revive him, no one knowing where he was. His carcass would rot far from those he loved, and who loved him back. He saw the blade coming closer and closer, his reflection glimmering on the clear steel.

They say the seconds before your death pass the slowest, like time had chosen to stretch as long as it could, only to give you the chance to think for a way to escape it. Scott took this unwritten rule of life for granted, and he tried to make the most of it. Not being restrained he could try hand-to-hand combat, but it would end badly for him…He couldn't trigger the rune by himself, because it needed to be touched by magic in order to work… Fleeing wasn't an option, as the door was locked shut from the second Britt passed through, and anyway he could catch up to him in an instant, by teleporting right behind him. As bad as it was, fisticuffs were the only way to prevent his imminent end. As his mind was made up, time resumed its normal passage.

Britt's sword had etched itself deep into the rough wood, as Scott used what was left of his sparring training to dodge the villain's attack.

"Oh, how quaint. Even when overpowered by your enemy, you humans are all the same…I knew the name of that guy…Who said something about the 'blind will to live'?" Britt asked as he phased his sword through the floor, in order to unlock it from its wooden prison.

"Impressive, you've taken the time to learn philosophy as well…It's Arthur Schopenhauer. He was the pioneer of a romantic motive called 'estheticism'."

"Hmph…Are those the people who chose beauty above everything?" Britt said as he thrusted forward, but in the blink of an eye, Scott dodged his attack. Driven by his force, the villain smashed through the door, leaving a gaping hole in it, just big enough for someone to leave. Looking through the new opening, Scott saw how Britt had already drawn the sword from its new cell, the wall.

"It's a yes and no…" the boy said as he passed through the ripped metal, grazing his feet on the sharp edges. Now his favorite pair of pants was ruined. Britt charged forward, this time, striking Scott, as he desperately tried to dodge, but failed, for the first time. A deep cut wet his shirt with blood as he tapped his shoulder. He could feel his ligaments disjointing from their sockets as he tried to fight the numbness that started to creep up his arm.

"They had some strange contradictory opinions. In fact, it's actually what that whole current was based upon," Scott continued running down the open hallway, knowing that in an open space, it would be much easier to foresee his enemy's attacks.

"Oh, I've read about this…Romanticism in essence is about antithesis, right?" Britt teleported in front of him, thrusting forward. Fortunately, he missed, as Scott slid on the cashmere carpet below him. The door was hundred feet from him, now. A quick sprint and he was going to be there…Fifty feet, twenty…He could smell the fresh air outside the unbreathable atmosphere of an oxygen deprived enclosure…Ten feet…

Britt fired a blast right above the doorframe. The heavy bricks fell on Scott, whose reflexes couldn't avoid the physics at stake. He stopped right in time to get crushed by the pile of rubble that obstructed any sort of movement. He was hurt beyond belief, but still alive…

"It really is…all about antithesis…Grotesque and funeral reunite… to form a cascade of unphatomable purity…The genius prevails… all the time, being portrayed as… distant and cold, glaring at the world… beneath him, hating them, while loving them as well…" Scott said between long sighs. His lungs were punctured, and he was barely drawing breath. He was all covered in debris, only his right hand was still visible. Now his death wasn't only imminent, but unavoidable, by all means…

"It resembles me pretty well. Glad I've had this conversation with you, Scott. Rejoice in the fact that you're the first one I regret killing thus far…That's an afterlife thought…Any last wishes?"

Scott was doomed…Britt's enchanted sword was going to cut his life line…Now he might as well take the mercy he was offering. Being birthed for magic and being killed by it as well. Ironic. He spent so much time meddling with powers no human would dream of, and now it was only suited he'd die not having his abilities anymore.

"Mercy is not a choice, is it?"

"No, Scott, it is not. But I'll give you a swift death, if that helps."

Hang in there…His sword!

"Then, please…cut off my arm and send it back to Mewni…I want them to have… at least one last memento of myself… be it gruesome or not."

"Your wish, be my command," Britt said as he raised his sword and cut off Scott's arm. A flash of light flooded the room. After it subsided, the scenery was drastically changed. The villain was sitting in the corner, in front of a cracked wall, incapacitated. Scott has triumphantly escaped from his restraints and was glaring at Britt from before a portal…His hand was dripping blood, as it remained on the ground…Without saying anything else, he took a note out of his pocket and carefully laid it on top of his severed limb, then evaded through the portal.

Night has fallen over Echo Creek, and the town was sleeping, at least the elderly were. Marco was only now returning to his empty home, as his parents were out of town, celebrating a family old tradition that thankfully left the kids out of it. It is clear that the second he entered the door, he was terrified to hear heavy groans, coming from the kitchen…The blood on the floor in the living room, only added to the fear, as he grabbed his dimensional scissors, he kept on in his pocket and disassembled them, so he can use the blades. Without giving it much thought, he jumped in the kitchen, stabbing wildly at the air, until he hit something in his blind rage.

"Argh…That hurt!"

"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING IN MY KITCHEN ALL BLOODY AND WITHOUT AN ARM?!"

"I'll tell you, but first…do me a solid and grab that first aid kit you keep underneath your sink," Scott answered calmly as he did what not even him thought was possible.


	7. Wounds

"So…care to explain what brings you here?" Marco asked, as he went down the stairs, carrying an enormous first aid kit to the wounded stranger bleeding profusely in his kitchen.

"You're going to be more specific, Marco," Scott replied as he already pulled up a string from the plastic box, tying up his missing arm in order to restrict blood flow. He seemed unusually indifferent towards his cuts and bruises, as if they weren't on his body.

"Well, gee, I don't know, how about WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING ON MY KITCHEN FLOOR?" Marco yelled, unable to hold back his anger anymore.

"Great choice, for a topic, Marco. You want the long story or the short story?"

"I've got time, spit it all out!"

And so, Scott retold his story for the third time the last month, carefully going into every minor detail, as if he lived through those events in the third person. Marco was baffled to hear that, his jaw dropping closer to the floor as the story went on.

"So…let me get this straight. You deliberately let this Britt guy cut off your arm, just to trigger some sort of magic-inhibiting rune, in order to incapacitate him and escape?"

"Was I not clear enough?" Scott posed that question rhetorically, as he was pouring alcohol all over his chest and arms, in order to disinfect his wounds. Despite his skin was blistering, he didn't even flinch, not a groan escaping from his throat.

"Doesn't that thing hurt?" the self-appointed nurse Marco innocently asked, slightly disgusted to see the foam covering his deep slits.

"As if they were sprayed over with venom, then left to boil up in the heat of the desert…I've been hurt before, albeit long ago…It's something you learn to deal with, after a while…"

"Ok…weird…Now, to my second question…"

"And not last, I presume."

"Yep. Why are you here? Aren't there mystique healers scattered across any other dimension but here?" His awe was well-founded. There was no reason for Scott not to be in a pixie hospital, where, with a bit of fairy dust, he would be as good as new. Still…there he was, spilling his vital fluid all over the blue immaculate tiles of the Diaz's kitchen.

"There are…But, it's best I come here. All the other places are easily trackable. Nobody would think of looking for me here, be it friend or foe."

That last sentence was unsettling…Who exactly was he running from? Was it Britt's evil wrath, or was it…

"Wait…You mean you don't want Star or the Queen or Glossaryck, even to find you?"

"Precisely. Now, you may want to look away, this part gets horrendous," he answered grabbing a needle that already had surgical string put in. Without hesitation he started sewing through the pulsating flesh of the gaping hole in his arm. Marco almost threw up as he saw the necrotic tissue being mashed in, so that it would clog the biggest blood drain. Looking out the window, he became more persuasive.

"But, they're your allies…Why would you run from them? Shouldn't, well, Star be the first one to know if you got hurt, or killed, or whatever is it that you do, nowadays?"

"I assure you, I don't get beaten up and slaughtered on a daily basis, if that's what you mean," Scott replied, as he cut the unused string, starting to work his way on the dead skin of his arm.

"Don't avoid my question, Scott…What is it?"

"I'm not avoiding anything, Marco. I'm just concerned about my severe, life-threatening, health hazardous wounds."

"The tending of which, causes you no pain and no distraction…Spill it up, or…"

"I don't think you have anything to bargain with."

"Well, I've got a pair of dimensional scissors, therefore the means of telling on you."

"You lack the motive and will, though. You hate me, but in the way that you don't really care for me. Should something horrible happen to me, you wouldn't rejoice in it, but you wouldn't step in either. This is why you haven't gotten in touch with your best friend in four months. It's because you blame me for your relationship failing, just because I was seemingly intrusive…You kept an unsavory grudge, whilst moving on with your life. Quite paradoxical, don't you think? Does this answer why I am here, Marco? It's because I know you wouldn't rat me out, because you don't give a damn about me."

An awkward and heavy silence followed. Scott was quietly going about his business, while Marco was diving in what he said…That was…true. He did something truly contradictory in essence, and despicable to say the least. It was just…he was dismayed when his separation from Mewni had happened, and decided the more distance, figuratively speaking, he put between him and that world, the better. Now, he was realizing the error in his ways…

"Did…Did Star miss me?"

"At first, yes. The first weeks she tried reaching out to you, sending an endless amount of interdimensional letters, that I guarantee you have seen. Then, as she realized you aren't going to respond, she started blaming herself, for she had failed you as a friend, breaking your heart into a million pieces and all. After this self-loathing period ended, she finally began moving on, up until now. She is here, right now, you know?"

"Here? As in, in town, right?"

"At the graveyard."

"Wait…how do you know that?"

"You forgot who you're speaking with…But, if you want to know, there is a sort of interdimensional radar that I managed to create some time ago…That's not the object of the conversation, now is it. You made me sound like the bad guy, so I turned it unto you. Who is the worse of us? I didn't do a thing to hurt you, yet here I am in your house, patching myself back up, in a place where not so long ago I was more than welcome, but now you're expelling me from."

"Oh…right…"

Marco started thinking about what Scott said…Something there didn't quite fit and he had a slight idea of what this little thing was, yet his reasoning was overwhelmed by the harsh accusations of his former friend. They were as frank as they were true, which made them all the more hurtful. He used to be a lot warmer, but now he seemed to be as vile and vicious as the people they had fought before…What could've triggered this change? As they sat in silence, Scott healing himself and Marco meditating over the situation at hand, the blood Scott spilt on the floor, has now become one with it.

"Why do people change?" resonated inside Marco's head. The only answer he could've come up and that fit the premises he had was that something bad happened to them…A sorrow loss, a bitter mistake, a wasteful separation, they all drive one to the path of wrath. The question now arises, what could he had lost? If not he gained something he strived for a very long time: love. As he was pondering, Marco's gaze met the stump that was now Scott's right arm…Wounds…He never saw him getting hurt before. His keen senses and immeasurable power always had his back, so that he'd be kept from harm at all times. He was as sharp as usual…could this mean?

"Scott? Have you somehow lost your powers?"

Scott dropped the roll of bandages, letting the wrapping on his arm go unfinished…Looking at Marco as if he wanted to strangle him with his bare hands, he replied:

"No, Marco, are you crazy? What would make you think that?" he laughed somewhat maniacally at the end.

"It's just that…you seem to rely more on devices nowadays. You even brought a pair of dimensional scissors with you…although you used it to cut your arm remnants off. You managed to get in this shape, whereas you slipped unscathed from the most mindboggling situations earlier. Is this what happened?"

"The answer remains no. You'd better nose around your own problems, before you dig in mine."

"Okay, then…if you say so. Prove it," Marco simply said, crossing his arms in disbelief.

"I don't have to prove anything to you." Scott was reluctant to show his power and continued to mend his wounds, unfazed.

"Fair enough. You leave me no choice," Marco said grabbing the scissors from Scott's hand and dislodging the blades. "You either prove you are the Scott I know by performing some magic, or you die here, by my hand."

"You're not going to kill me, Marco. You don't have the guts to do it."

"Not the guts are what may be missing. I've killed that Skeleton King you sent to battle intruders, so slaying my foes isn't a problem for me. But you are no foe are you?"

"No, I am not… Do you really want to play this game? It's tedious and cliché as it is, do you really want to go through with this? You will not kill me, whatever you think you can do…"

"Oh, really? As I said, I have no problem in slaying my foes. And since you can't do magic, you're not the Scott I know. You're but a mere imposter, and are currently intruding in my home, so I see you as an enemy, an incapacitated one to say the least, making the kill easier than ever…"

"Seems like the absence of an innocent presence in your life had turned you maniacal. Shame it's only in your speech…"

"Oh, really?" Marco asked rhetorically throwing one of his scissor-daggers in Scott's right shoulder. The sharp, sudden pain made him drop the needle with which he was sewing back his deep wound and it left him gasping at another gaping hole.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Scott yelled, suddenly getting up, but losing his balance right away and falling to the ground.

"I told you. It's either a little blast, or your life. I'd make that choice faster if I were you," Marco said as he threw his other blade, that lodged deep inside Scott's foot, pinning him to the ground. Such force was put in the attack; the dagger pierced his leg and dug deep in the ground. Only the tip remained visible, uncovered by flesh.

Scott's mind raced now. He wasn't scared of Britt and his inherent insanity, because he foresaw it. What is known is meaningless to be afraid of, but once the unknown comes, the terror arises. He hadn't any idea that Marco got, somehow, corrupted by an evil aura…He had to strike and purge as fast as he could, only to not die and let his mistake corrupt the world.

Fourteen hundred years of life lead to an intriguing mind. As age grows, so does the mind. Scott was able to think faster than other humans, slowing things down to a halt, not just when in distress, but at his beck and call. Marco was ready to grab the scalpel from the first aid kit and deliver a final blow, but that was minutes away from then…Now, what had caused this problem…what got to Marco. Two things come to mind, one that he had tried, but it failed. It was high time he played his other card…

"What's Hekapoo doing, Marco?" Scott asked, spitting a mouthful of blood, smiling deviously.

Marco in response threw his last blade at him, and it pierced his left lung. Not a fatal wound, but it drew a series of sickly coughs out of his chest. His question struck, but it was too late. The solution was simple now. He couldn't die. He just had to live, no matter what. No one could fight his war. He didn't want that…It was his mishap, his duty…It's best now that he came clean.

"Stop there, Marco…You win."

"I don't think I've made myself clear, but you either use your powers or you die," Marco said, his eyes glinting as he stepped into the moonlight. Scott was leaning against a glass door, tainting its purity with his filthy blood.

"You were right, Marco. I lost my powers…A long time ago. Now please, help me up, and I will tell you everything you want." The scene that followed was…bizarre, which in Scott's standards is quite rare and an instantaneous alarm signal.

The moment was brief, but Scott's analytic gaze caught it. Marco's shadow grew bigger behind him, then, for a second, it split in two, and the larger half swiftly squirmed into a corner, blending itself with the darkness and then fading back to wherever it came from. Marco seemed to shake off something, like a bad memory, then the usual kindness returned to his eyes. He seemed oblivious of what he did, and helped his injured friend back on his 'hospital' chair…A never ending series of questions followed…

"How did you lose them?"

"My powers were soulbound…My death meant that my soul was separated from my body…I got revived because Star split her soul in order for me to live on…She made a huge sacrifice, but I lost much more than I let out in the open."

"But, why? Wasn't it better to just tell the truth from the beginning, without all this hiding, all this secrecy?"

"No…You see, Marco…I am nothing without my powers. I'm arrogant, sarcastic, disingenuous, malicious, condescending and the list could go on. I have no idea how I managed to make people like me, especially how to get someone like Star, but…I just know that without magic I am just a regular old dude…Doomed to a mundane existence, and a trite life. I hate to admit, that I am but a powerhouse, unable to stand for anything as long as I am as weak as a regular Joe…"

"Wow…you really have some serious problems…You are so much more than a bunch of magic strewn together in a person…You are kind, warm, supportive, intelligent over the normal limit of geniuses…"

"Marco, I am an unending ball of self-loathing, putting on a mask of confidence to hide the lack of self-esteem below…My knowledge is useless at this point. Do you know why I actually came to you?"

"I suppose not because you missed me?"

"You're funny. No. First off, I went to face Britt, because I wanted to die. I got captured, laid on some stupid lines that built up to an inevitable conclusion…my death. But, during what I had found to be the most insightful conversation of my life, I realized that I can't. Not now. I still have something to live for, even though it's painful."

"And you chose to come to me…"

"Because you were the only one I haven't tried to come to. You're the sole person who wouldn't get at me for leaving you, for stealing your love, for all the wretched mistakes of my past. Even though you had the seed of hate inside of you, it got defeated by your knight like pure heart."

"I'm touched…But I can't say I find myself in what you say…"

"Don't make it harder than it has to be, Marco. You always did that…you always put so many things between you and your goal, instead of focusing on removing them. But, I haven't come here to discuss pasts. The present is what concerns me at the time. Would you mind handing in that bottle of sanitary alcohol? My scissors weren't really the most…disinfected of items."

Marco reached for the small bottle filled with sky blue liquid. He threw it across the room, Scott catching it with an unusual mobility, given his wounds.

"How are you still alive? With the amount of blood you lost, and the severity of your wounds, you should've been in the grave for hours now."

"I may have lost my powers, Marco…But there are some things not even I can explain to myself. I just let them happen."

The monotonous tone of Scott rubbing the healing rag, imbued with alcohol all over his wounds was interrupted by a loud thunder in the distance. A purple lighting cracked the sky, signaling the ominous storm to come.

"It looks like it's going to rain," Marco remarked, staring dumbfounded at the horizon. Scott didn't share his amazement, though. He was scared of what he had seen, yet kept it for himself. That was no regular tempest…The second the sky united itself with the dark ground, through a column of light, Scott turned to Marco.

"I told you Star was in the graveyard, right?"

"Right."

"How about you pay her a visit?"

"I wouldn't want that at the moment. It's enough I got you here, meeting back with Star as well would put me back a couple of months."

"I'm sorry to tell you but, I wasn't asking as much as demanding. There is going to be an unfortunate event going down there, right about now…I would go there myself, but…" Scott said pointing at himself with his stump.

"What…exactly do you want me to do, there?"

"Your choice. I highly recommend running, though. Take the girls and run as far as you can. You may want to…" Scott added, grabbing the two scissor daggers, taking a few quick breaths and then removing them, letting out a short scream," use these. Think of anywhere safe, but distant from here. I'll come to you as soon as I will be able. Will you take this mission, Marco?"

Marco didn't need to think it over. The 'yes' came out almost instinctively.

"Great then. I suppose I don't need to motivate why I can't go. Just, please, keep my situation completely undisclosed…Don't worry about your house, I'll clean this up before I come join you. When that shall happen, you'll come back here, and it will be as if nothing had ever happened. Deal?" Scott said stretching out his hand.

"Deal," Marco replied shaking his hand.

"Then off you go!"

The red hoodie Marco wore, soon looked like a small bloodstain on the dark green of the hedges. Scott remained to sew himself back up, and get in running order…Seeing the dark purple lightning strike again, he exclaimed loudly, but for himself, nonetheless:

"I'm sorry for what I did, Marco…I just can't live with this burden anymore…"


	8. Past the Tip

Scott was busy patching himself back up. He was sewing up his wounds with surgeon-like precision, not even groaning at the immense pain he felt. He wasn't a weak spirit, having been tried so many times in his millennia of life, nothing could make him budge. The problem is, this was a double-edged sword. He had to pay a price for everything, as everyone else. He had a high endurance, physically, that is, but emotionally he was a mess. He had unphatomable thoughts crossing his mind, causing even the keenest of minds to wonder, sometimes, what he wanted to do. They were all plans, within plans, but no one, but himself could really understand them. Enigmatic, in his way, he rarely entrusted anyone with a more serious task, as he saw only himself as fit to fulfill it. The others were meek, compared to them, in both spirit and body. This would've gathered hateful glares from everyone who would've been forced to live in close proximity to him. Thankfully for the world, but unfortunately for him, it was all to his disadvantage. Living isolated, stranded on an island of his own misconceptions, he grew up to be extremely depreciative of the people around him, causing him to take an aura of self-pride, that he despised. He hated what he had become, but he embraced it as well. Change was impossible and useless at the same time. No point in fixing that which is beyond repair. An optimist would say that nothing ever reaches that point. Scott begged to differ, in his conversations with himself, that is. He had blamed himself for everything bad that had ever happened leading to the situation at hand, even though his will was pure and his intentions were for nothing but good. The whole Toffee fiasco was something he had managed to get through, to surpass in his emotional trek through the fields of forgiveness, but as Ulysses had to wander about for years before stepping on Itaca again, he had a long way to go, before he could truly live with himself.

The only sound in the Diaz residence was Scott's swift hand manipulating the short, yet sturdy piece of string in order to scar himself for life. In this lugubrious silence, he felt as if the loneliness was living. He wasn't used anymore to live in solitary. Even if the companionship was not the most pleasant, he had a mystic enjoyment coming out of it, as if he was running from a sentient being, and his destination was social acceptance. Unable to cope with his isolation that was slowly creeping up on him, he started humming a song. He was a master painter, able to compete with Renaissance artists as if he were winning a school art fair, but when it came to something a little more volatile, such as sound, he was as tone-deaf as a braying donkey, and even it had more rhythm. Even though no one was watching him, he suddenly felt self-conscious, the only fraction of blood having available for blushing, rushing to his cheeks. Scott coughed loudly, to shoot down the invisible monster he was having a battle of wits with, but it was nothing but a lonesome grenade in a world war. The monotonous sound of fabric passing through his skin, stitching his somehow still bleeding arm couldn't do it. Unable to cope with the fact that he was left alone in a place he didn't won, which had no mark of him ever being there, he started talking to himself, on a solemn, affable tone. He was scolding himself, being his own judge, as he first started to put two and two together, but unfortunately the result was still off…

"How did I get to this…? I've had everything I ever needed, yet here I sit now, in a stranger's house, doing the work of someone I had never formally met. It's a prejudice to find that my studies of the human body had finally paid off, be them done centuries prior. But, alas, I wouldn't be speaking to myself in a fit of mental instability, just to grieve over open wounds that are visible to the others…Why have I become the cold maniac, I am today? Why can't I finally see that I am no better than anyone, but the pedestal I had mistakenly placed myself over had been above ground level all this time? Even with my last omen of superiority gone, I can't descend myself and accept my humanity…I've done it with such ease, such pestilence when I had my powers, that it caught on to the highest judge of the Universe, and now that I should do it, the means of accomplishing it seem to avoid me…Is it because deep down I am arrogant? Is it because I am nothing but the result of regular human vanity placed under the exaggerated verdict of a more than average fate? Perhaps…I can't even find the reason. Where my intelligence had prevailed before, now it only draws blanks parallel to the linear course of thoughts I'm having…I can't seem to live with myself anymore. Every second I spend drawing breath is filled with incomprehensible pain, just because I feel that I am not worthy for the life I'm still privileged to own. The magic I felt coursing through my veins had managed to take my mind off this conflict. Now that I'm not blinded anymore by a shroud of passing euphoria, I can actually see the filth I am in. So damaged in my own ineffable way that I can't even see myself as the least decent human being…What should I do now…Where should I go?"

Scott dropped the needle on the floor, and the slim piece of iron had managed to slide underneath the fridge. It seemed almost too convenient, as if even the world around him held a grudge for an event that didn't even happen, yet. He was almost done anyway, perhaps that leaving his arm incomplete would cause it to get infected, complications would arise and he could blame this all to serendipity. But he didn't want to die. There was a tug in him, towards life, a blind will, as he had heard from his polar opposite, Britt. Kant lived a long time ago, yet he still had a saying for the exact feelings crossing his heart. Sighing, he got up and waddled towards the chair the first aid kit was resting upon. There couldn't only be one needle in the entire medkit, could it? Fortunately, yet sadly at the same time, there was. With a mechanical precision he resumed his main activity…He had no clue what should he do when he'd be done. Scott started speaking again, this time, filling his speech with an uncanny pathetic tone, as if he was trying to impress an extremely tearful audience…

"Why did I do all I did…I could've avoided so many mishaps, so many pride-filled acts, that had eventually led me to this point…Even now, I had sent Marco to meet up with what I can only assume it's Britt, and Star is there…Oh, why did I have to interfere and come right between them…They had such a perfect love, until I chimed in and ruined everything. I guess this is my effect. Everything I touch withers and dies, only to be rebirthed in a tainted world, mucked by my own dirt…The Blood Moon was an unbreakable omen…I couldn't leave it there, just to rest unbeatable. Somehow I had tried to bring it down and prove it can be defeated…Now I am here, slowly destroying such a lovely and wonderfully innocent princess and slowly corrupting her magic as it was before. What I had tried to avoid at first, had now become what I'm causing. It's a blessing she hadn't had to cast a focused spell ever since Toffee was defeated, because else, I would've really been in a worse state than I am now…Why, oh why I had to succumb to the most basic of human needs…I can't forgive myself for what I did… And now I can only hope I will be able to live with what I did…in the new life I'm building...But I," Scott said suddenly getting up, struggling to walk upstairs. Every step, a blood drop fell on the floor. Behind him a crimson line was left, embedding itself in the stairs' rug. That was going to be hard to clean. Unfortunately, he lied to Marco, something customary to him at this point. He was ashamed of this, but he couldn't help himself at this point. He was too far gone in his masterplan, or his sideplan, more likely. He had strategies on top of strategies to swing back at, should one fail. Now that everything went according to one, he had to complete it…Scott was fumbling, searching through Marco's stuff only to find a pen and a single sheet of paper, or a notebook. He found something else, though. Stranded between a perfect lineup of textbooks, he had found the most out of place of all items. There was a little letter in an envelope, stamped, ready to be sent, through the interdimensional mailman, to Mewni. Curious and with a severe lack of regard for privacy, he opened it, carefully, as to not damage the fragile shelter of the emotional piece of paper. On a courteous tone, somewhat mocking, he read it out loud:

"Dear Star,

I'm sorry for what I did. I know I've been extremely immature, hasty and took off without trying to understand what went out there. I was an enormous jerk, but first of all, a terrible best friend. I shouldn't have left you down, I shouldn't have done what I did…But I'm trying to make amends with you…I don't think I have the courage to do it up front with you. Going back to that crazy world is a bit too much for me, when I just managed to fall back into normality. But…I wouldn't mind having a bit of craziness here, back in Echo Creek. The people out here are missing you as much as I am, by the way. Without you, school is the same it was before. For me, it's not tedious, bland and mind-numbingly boring, as is for Jackie, Janna, Alfonso and Fergusson. But I must say, I didn't know I'd look back on the way you made Maths feel and smile about it. Which leads me to all the memories we've had together…So hazardous, yet so funny at the same time. I'd also never think I'd miss your lovely shenanigans, mainly derived just from your genuine explosive personality. Those misunderstandings used to make my day…But enough nostalgia. We've come to the part of the letter where I pose some questions. I made it sound more serious than I intended…Anyway, how are you? How's life back in Mewni? Are you making any progress with your magic? I know, you may never see this letter, but…I just felt like I needed to come clean. I've made mistakes, but I've learnt to get over them…I just hope you got over me as well, so we could come back and just…be friends."

"Oh, Marco…I wish I could do that as well. Oh, well…I guess this spares me of the trouble of making a note of myself…But I will still need to say some things…" Scott said as he grabbed a pen and started continuing on his letter. He made sure, however that it was crystal clear that it was his doing.

"I'm sorry for what I have done, Marco and Star.

I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm…going to leave this universe. I destroyed it, and I'm doing the most unethical and childish thing, which is fleeing from the consequences of my actions…My apologies are in vain, but I feel like I need to be clear, as to what I am really being penitent about.

Marco, I'm sorry for how I made you feel. I was intrusive, condescending, malicious, vicious, vile, cold, distant and perhaps the most important of all, a bad friend. I shouldn't have done what I did; as much as I want to believe that it was involuntary, I can't deny that my intentions weren't actually the purest of them all.

Star, I'm sorry for the way I made you feel for the time we've been together. I was one of the worst lovers, perhaps on a lower tier than the anger driven Tom…I drove you away, with my secretive nature and I made you question so many things about me, which you, in your infinite caring and tenaciousness, had tried so hard to get to the bottom of…I've lost my powers, and ever since that moment, I've been stuck in a loop of denying every single pleasure I could have. Self-loathing until the point of extinction. I know you didn't love me for my abilities, but, in my crooked, twisted mind, I couldn't bear the feeling that I was nothing but a meek peasant, sitting near you, siphoning your good will and innocence. It's best that I leave you, and stop thusly chaining you to a dead tree trunk…You're young, have got your whole life ahead of you, while I have another begged eternity to wander off, alone.

Live your life, you two…Forget me."

He left the note on Marco's desk, in such a poignant position, not even a blind man could miss it. Purposely, the pen was ridden of its cap, just so that it would attract a little bit of anger. It goes well with whatever pitiful amount of sadness will be derived from reading that pathetic eulogy. Now, he had to keep the last of his promises. Without hesitation, he grabbed the cleaning supplies from beneath Marco's sink and started backtracking his steps in order to wash off all the blood. Thoroughness was always something he cared about. It was obsessive and compulsory for him that he got every single ounce of stain out of the carpet. He rubbed it, gently, not a hint of anger in his actions. Calmly and easily, he managed to get out all that he spilled on the stairs' rug. In ten minutes, he had managed to clean up all the mess in the kitchen, leaving the house spotless.

"Job's done," he said, dropping the red bucket on the ground. Out of carelessness, it almost overflowed, negating everything he had done so far. Now, for his leave. Scott didn't create that stash at the edge of this universe for nothing. It was his way of ensuring there'd be a legacy left behind him. Even though he may not have been the best person, his knowledge was unparalleled. As long as he had his powers he had created runes out of pure magic, runes that would serve purposes from interuniversal travel, to…cleaning one's place. He should've, perhaps, thought of that before wasting all this time scrubbing the floors. Either way, he had something extremely valuable left behind, that no one could stumble upon. He made sure that it was almost unreachable for anyone, even the almighty Glossaryck who beat him when it came to interdimensional travel. That was the old man's quirk. They were equal in powers in any other way, except for the ability to create runes, which was Scott's specialty. Scott knew how to abuse this, while Glossaryck didn't, or just wanted to show that he needn't win over him in any way. His passivity was always envied by the boy, who wished, albeit rarely, to be as patient and ambivalent as his master. His humanity was what rested in its way, and his humanity was what drove him to creating all these plans…Now he was going to leave this world behind him, and reset his life. Granted, he will be on the watchlist of the Council for the next couple of years, and his death will be extremely hard to achieve, because of this. He won't find rest soon, but he will surely find peace.

The rune he needed to activate didn't require anything special. No elusive circumstances, no incantations, not any sort of focus whatsoever. It just needed to be drawn and placed on the ground, then it would open a portal. Only one person can pass through it, then the rune self-destructs and remains inactive, forever…No one can use it ever again. It was made as an escape route, and now it served its intent. It was about to help Scott run away. From himself, from his demons, from his problems, they all just needed to disappear for a while…or forever. Without further ado, he grabbed a piece of chalk he was carrying in his pocket, that he somehow managed to hold on to, despite all the ruckus going on at Britt's castle. One big circle had painted the floor and three seemingly Chinese letter followed. The resemblance was unfortunately not relevant to anything, as a couple more lines tying them up made it seem more like a drawing, symmetrical in a way. A few more tiny circles and stars had been added to the rune in order to finalize it. There was only one more touch required. Everything need to be crossed out, with a straight line. Scott started to complete his work…His hand started shaking, all of a sudden. Was this really what he wanted? Would it be right for him, for Star, for anyone, if he just took the easy way out and fled from all the trouble he had caused? No, it wouldn't, but there was now a conflict brewing up inside of him. Should he do…

His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar looking portal. The indigo glow, with a diamond shaped pattern reoccurring on the edges of it, predicted that Glossaryck would be exiting from it, soon after. The meeting between the two was almost going to end as abruptly as if they were only now seeing each other on the street for the first time. Another portal was opened right in front of the one the old man just came out of, signaling that there was some sort of road he had to pass through in his journey. If it weren't for the trained eyes of Glossaryck, he would've just kept on, without even noticing the strange white markings on the floor, but fortunately for him, and unfortunately for Scott, he was a man of details.

"Should I ask?"

"It's best you don't. The least you know, the better."

"I feel like being millennia old, you'd be more mature about your actions. Unfortunately, you're just an emotional kid, childish and infantile, that can never understand a simple concept. Hold your thought," he said, seeing that Scott was about to interrupt him. "Let me finish. You're human, Scott. I'm a magical being. I was created to be what I am, I was literally made for this job. You weren't…You were chosen, despite my objections. I told Hyperion that this kind of things would happen, eventually. Thankfully, it's in a time of peace, and it was not during one of the many crisis we had to partake in. That omniscient arrogant didn't understand that I had gotten to know humans better than anyone there. You're not made for this job…Your emotions are always an obstacle, a hindrance in pursuing the path of equilibrium, but you somehow managed to contain them…But this isn't the thing I want to drag on about, for ages. It's a subject for another 'on-edge situation'…Scott, I know that you're troubling yourself over your actions, is that correct?"

"Go on," Scott said, understanding alas, that there is more to Glossaryck than meets the eye.

"You must understand something, that you had forgotten in your initial pursuit for ultimate power. You had always forgotten your condition. You're human, Scott. And being a human is all about making mistakes…It's a saying, I reckon, isn't it? You have faced up to this part, but you forgot the second…You need to learn from them, not just beat yourself senseless, just because you are flawed. It's your nature…You can't be all good, there will come times when you will fail, when you'll sin, when you'll let everyone down. It's normal. It's what makes you, you, boy. But, as a human, you tend to surround yourself with other humans, because you crave social contact…Those people that you had let down, they won't leave you, as you want to leave them now. They will stay by you, no matter what, because all those feelings you have for each other, that I can't fathom very well."

"For a man that says you don't understand people, you're pretty well-documented. It looks like you've read so many psychology text books. Maslow, Freud and Skinner would be proud of you."

"I don't know who those people are, but I know that you're deluding yourself that you're doing something for the greater good of the world. You're unfortunately so wrong, that even your conscience is yelling to you, loud and clear, telling you what a hypocrite you are. You're actually making it just for yourself. You're tired of this whole conundrum, and losing your powers didn't help either. Don't act surprised, you can't hide squat from me. Back on track, you just want peace…You want this whole stress to end, but you had been so blinded by your own self-loathing and grieving over your descending condition, that you hadn't realized you don't have it anymore. It's all self-imposed…All in your mind, because you can't accept that now, you're inferior to someone. You need to have a duty, a higher purpose, in order to exist. It's great to have a goal, but it should be scaled down to your possibilities…"

"As always, you're making more sense than I expected…You're shaking my world from the foundation," Scott answered ironically, disingenuously implying that, despite Glossaryck had made numerous valid points, he was as stubborn as a mule.

"I'm glad you agree," Glossaryck answered, making it clear that sarcasm isn't very appreciated. "Look, kid. I care about you, and I can't let you do stupid things that will get us both into trouble. Please, can you just cope with the fact that you're normal now…It's not shameful, not a predicament…It's an opportunity to change, but you must allow it to. You can't just skip over your problems as if they didn't exist, and run when they get rougher. Your drama…is completely made up by yourself. You're a psychological hypochondriac, victimizing yourself to the point you're about to make something so drastic, to use emotional blackmail, to spew out so many unwanted sad lines…And for what? So you can get fake closure, and delude yourself even further." Glossaryck stopped and approached the boy, who now looked as if he was about to break down crying.

Scott was really moved, touched by the wise words the old man was strangely able to come up with. For someone who couldn't understand love and who couldn't see that emotions change the way that magic works, he surely was an empathetic fellow. His conscience was shaken already…Now he wasn't sure that he wanted to leave…But the self-loathing was still there. Now he wondered whether he deserved such support, after all he's done.

"Scott, help your friends, by letting them help you. Open up to them, and the door you wanted to go through will close behind you…"

The last part was a beautiful metaphor, coming from the old man. He usually had a very blunt poetic mind, remaining with his rich vocabulary, but using it only when the time was nigh. He had to close a door behind him…A door…

"OH, GOD!" Scott yelled, as he waddled towards the window to see the crimson lightning striking down the woods, where the graveyard was placed. Without even bothering to justify his behavior, he drew out his dimensional scissors, cut open a portal, and stepped through it. Glossaryck followed him, without hesitating.


	9. Down in the Dark

Being injured as he was, after the first few feet, Scott was already gasping for air. He couldn't run, he could barely walk in his condition. Plus, the few violent moves he had tried, such as jumping over the fence, had put too much stress on his newly formed stitches. He had to admit that it was reckless, a spur of the moment decision that made more harm than good. Ten minutes he wasted in vain, just because he lost his cool at the sound of a simple word. Making connections was his forte, but in this case it might have been his downfall. He was brought back from the endless abyss of despair he had plunged in, helped by the old man's wisdom, and if his actions caused Star and Marco's downfall, he wouldn't forgive himself, ever. Being on the brink, he returned to the Diaz residence, only to see that Glossaryck had disappeared. He had no business here, perhaps he was just passing, so this didn't surprise him at all, but what made his eyebrows meet on top of his forehead, was the fact that his rune was gone. In its place, the chalk traces had been rearranged to spell out an encouraging message, to which Scott smiled with half his brain and face implicated. The cliché was inbound, but it wasn't the cause of this peculiar duality. "Stop losing hope," while distancing by avoiding the 'never' was still screaming loud and clear: "OVERUSED", yet it was exactly what he had to do. He had missed having that drive to go forward, to live, drive that was first and foremost tied to his nature, his human nature, which caused this moral descent. Albeit seldom, there were times, brief, lasting for seconds at a time, when he actually thought to himself that he shouldn't give up, that there were still things to fight for, people that he couldn't afford to disappoint. Now, that he found it in one solitary action, he marked a progress that shrouded and threw in shadow anything that he could do on his own. Losing this much ground to his despair could be fatal for him, and the world around him. It was imperative, in other words, for him to fulfill his own mission. Not only for his own peace, but for that of the others.

"Let's just hope it happens, old man. Just in case, I don't make it through the night, both literally and figuratively," Scott said as he grabbed the letter, seemingly ostentatiously left there as a memento of his original plan. He then placed it on top of the rune, then grabbed his scissors and opened a portal. Checking what he had 'equipped', he confidently stepped in it, landing in the middle of the woods. In the distance, a thunderous noise had echoed throughout the hollow trees. This peculiar event, had reminded him of what actually happened in this area. How many tears had been spilled over the graves of untimely passed husbands…Too much stone had been mined from the mountains around Echo Creek, in order to place so many tombstones over the now rotten carcasses of the people who perished. The graveyard was right near him, and he had so many reasons to believe the worst could happen. It was still too far away from him, he couldn't hear anything but the ominous sound of clouds colliding, paired with the whistling of the wind through the empty, withered branches.

He shouldn't have done this, that was the first thought that crossed his head. Making a few steps forward, he stumbled upon the even ground, and fell against a tree, that caught him, embracing him with its harsh bark. He needed rest now, not to get back in the action, but, here he was, being the hero no one deserved nor needed. He felt no pain, it was just his body betraying him, rioting against him, saying seemingly:" No more should you be the master of this breathing corpse, foolish forsaken mind!" His spirit broken, now he needed to regain control over his train of thought, following which he'd be able to mentally control his actions, yet again. There was a path already made throughout the woods, perhaps the undertaker who roamed this desolate land, in order to reach his destination. Laying waste upon every trunk he touched, pushing his enormous weight against the scorched wood, pulling it from its roots, destroying it in his wake. Little by little, step by step, he moved forward, inches at a time. All around him, there was nothing but lifelessness. He had to make his way towards the deafening noises up ahead. He won't be able to stand looking through his eyes ever again, should he not make it. It was truly a test for him. Was he able to cope with what he had become, with what he did, in order to do what was right? That was what he had to find out, right about now.

The wind grew in power, substantially, at least for him. The fiercest hurricane had started, throwing burning daggers all over his bare skin, opening up his wounds. It barely moved the grass he was stepping on, yet he felt the weight of it, as if he carried a metric ton up the tallest of mountains. He became blind, not seeing a foot forward, despite the moon shining bright above him, throwing its silver rays over the unholy ground. The unwanted lamppost of the night had been blessedly hung right above him, yet he refused to take in its glow. The thunder in the distance, the crimson lightning above, were nothing but a distant spark in a dark cave, produced by two pieces of flint colliding. It was as if his senses were weakened, his body destroyed, then rebuilt…but with almost every part missing. Waking up from the grave of a ruined mind had left him in the most primordial of states, that of a newborn, learning what life is for the same time…

A lone whisper was carried with the strong gust. Despite deaf, blind and hurt, his feet still carried him close enough to hear a distant conversation, faintly…Vision blurry, enclosed by darkness above, darkness below, he was living a nightmare. The gloom was talking to him, telling him to 'stop, stop, stop!" It was an order, a yell, more silent than the quietest of hushes. Demanding, yet soft, he heard it loud and clear. As he progressed, the peaceful decree had grown inside his mind, a wicked seed, commanding the weakened soul to halt in its tracks. The whisper, turned to a voice, then to a shout and now inside his head, the echoes of an ungodly shriek crippled him. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" it persisted, causing the already crawling boy to slow down even further. Inch by inch, turned to frame by frame. He stepped forward with disjointed actions, as if his mind was lagging, the biological ties between his brain and body being compromised. The train of thought had crashed now, leaving an inhuman silhouette, degenerated, make its way towards the gate of the graveyard.

The gates were open, forcibly so, but perhaps that was there for ages. A lock with more rust than iron left on it rested on the ground, half buried, leaving any lone wanderer make its way inside. He was a retired old man, granting passage, imperturbable, lost in his contemplating of the life he had before. Scott entered the unknown. He hadn't been here before, yet he had the entirety of Echo Creek mapped, from the time he had offered Queen Moon to chaperone and train her daughter. A good teacher and friend is prepared for everything. He remembered planting many items here, just in case the worst scenario struck. It was an eerie location, haunted by the heavy spirits of the dead, so nobody frequented it. The perfect hideout for anything magical, or unusual. He didn't do it himself, though, or more accurately, he didn't do it 'directly'. He was a powerful man once. He could transport items better than no one else. His brain was an enormous computer, equipped with maps on top of maps. He just had to punch in coordinates and that location was an open portal for everything he wished for. This is how, deep in the ground, lay weapons and trinkets meant to enhance any escape attempt, should their current dimension be compromised. The problem was that his powers were gone, now he had to guess where everything was. Thousands of graves had been dug here over the centuries of Echo Creek's existence. Searching for one specific place would be the old story of the needle of the haystack.

Slowly crawling between the paths of funerary memorials, he didn't even stop to search anything. He had enough on his tab already. Profanation of the graves of the unknown wasn't going to be another line. He could hear someone talking in the distance, but he couldn't understand a word. It was unintelligible gibberish to his broken ears…The tones, the pitches of the voices were all mixed, forming a cacophony from which he couldn't separate a certain frequency…Whereas a sane, healthy person would hear a chorus formed by the shrieks of many scared girls, paired with the argument between two manlier, yet still childlike speeches. His eyes adjusted to the uncanny light. Strolling through the dark, the shine of his surroundings had blinded him, more than he already was. He was but an unsighted peddler, missing an arm, wobbling and fumbling around the endless rows of tombs. By sheer power of touch, he found a brick wall that hindered his advance. Through tactile synesthesia he could feel the grayness of the charnel that stood as an immovable obstacle. Guided by an ineffable will, he put his ear against the uneven barricade, only to immediately recoil, scared. He could hear…howls coming from inside. His auditory sense was severely impaired…the echoes from inside were but the voices of Star, Marco, Britt and the gang, on the other side. The unsettling noises were there by sheer accident. The door of the burial vault was left open.

Scott now had a choice…go around the contraption haloed by a dying light…It wasn't fainted, but it had a lugubrious taste to it. His other option was resting behind his shelter, crippled by his fear of those whom he will let down. He could feel his heart beating, but it was more of an uncanny sensation, a rhythm echoing inside his veins, instead of the more customary sensation of angina. It pumped more blood in his ears and eyes, causing him a null pain. It was a psychological hypochondria that devoured his once keen senses. Scared of the imminent danger, exhausted, he was left sitting against the charnel, gripping the air, tightly. His delirium was profound, Scott was so far gone in his insanity that he couldn't bear the situation anymore. He wanted this all to end. Digging his hand deep in the ground, he started covering what he thought was his body with the dirt below. Being buried alive seemed like the only suitable option for him. His breathing became heavier, weaker, as he put more and more dirt over his chest…Ounces seemed like tons to him. Unable and unwilling to distinguish between anything he touched, he couldn't feel the sharp edge of a short dagger. If he were stronger, he'd have pierced his heart right there, but his weakened state has been his salvation.

He let his hand fall on his beating heart, feeling the cold blade with his bare palm. It had an awakening effect on him, as he suddenly got up to his feet, regaining his sight and hearing, but only faintly. He could see in shades of black and white, but mostly dark nuances were perceived by his half closed eyes. From the other side of the burial vault, he could now differentiate between who was a man and who was a woman, despite still not recognizing the voice of his girlfriend…Scott lifted the dagger up in the air, reflecting the argent light towards the infinite obscurity he left behind. It was a small decorated bayonet. The black handle had a sharp prominence, in the form of a fang, probably belonging to a dragon, contrasting with the untainted purity of the blade. It had one edge, meaning that it was a weapon for either a head-on assault, or a covert backstab. Establishing its purpose, Scott leaned towards the edge of the charnel, recognizing three different silhouettes, out of which, one, that of a tall, skinny man, had its back turned to him. The other two, a boy and a girl, he could faintly distinguish between, as they were tight in the arms of the other, had their faces to him. The only detail he could see was the luxurious colorless hair of the damsel in distress. As if he were dreaming, unintelligible words passed by his ear. They were filled with a pathetic cry for help, so Scott could draw the conclusion that the lone ranger was threatening the two lovers. Silently, moving as if he were glued to the wall, he made his way in front of the burial vault. He was staying in the doorframe, a moving shadow between shadows. His movements were mute, no sound was made as he stepped towards the ranger, his blade drawn and ready…In one swift motion, he stabbed the back of the villain before him, collapsing right after. Behind the poor unfortunate boy there was a crimson path, stretching from the place where he fell down, until meeting its end in the heart of the forest. The last thing Scott saw, was through his heavier and heavier eyelids. It was a flash of light coming towards him, but missing him, going just above to hit an unknown target, whose shrieks rang only once in his ears.

He felt relieved, his soul set at ease by the sweet release of death…But there was something he felt was incomplete. There were unseen binds still tying him to the life he despised. He was living still, trapped in a purgatory, a comatose state, where he had to wake up, or else he'll be stuck in a limbo of unmet pleasure. He was seeing himself from a third person perspective, floating in nothing…Suddenly a shock had caused him to convulse heavily…He was experiencing strange seizures all over his body, starting from his head, ending in his feet. What added to the uncanniness of the situation was that they seemed strangely rhythmic, as if they were coordinated by a metronome… After a short while the tremors stopped, but they were replaced by a flood…Hollow, clear liquids filled the air, making it unbreathable, drowning him in the nothing all around him. Scott was suffocating, coughing madly, as if he was flu-ridden…He could feel his lungs catching fire, as they were filled with this strange fluid…And as sudden as it came, as sudden it was gone. As if Moses was there to part the waters, he was left in the same darkness, dry to the bones. It was as if it was all a dream, within a dream. The last event was a blinding light, the same as the one they shine in your eyes in order to check your retina…He couldn't bear it, even with his eyes closed, he had to cover them with his hand, but the pain was replaced by a burning sensation…He could smell smoke coming out from his lit coat…The light got so strong, it burned through his flesh, continuing to radiate as powerful as before…His whole body caught fire, exposed to this purging glare…He couldn't feel his legs anymore, nor his body. Soon he could only feel his head, but his self-consciousness had retracted gradually…His mouth was gone, so were his ears, then his nose and lastly his eyes. Now he was just a lone mind floating in the gloom of his prison. However, his thoughts were starting to fade…He was now staring emptily, unable to feel or judge anything.

Scott woke up in an unknown bed, smelling of sanitary alcohol with a hint of lemon pledge. There was no one near him, but that was only his first impression. His field of view broadened as his eyes adjusted to the glow of the light coming through the small window of the door. Next to him, Star had fallen asleep, her bangs covering her eyes, not anymore stopped by her headband that was barely clinging on her pinky. He looked at his arm. It was a shorter stump than it was before, barely being able to wear a T-shirt anymore. His bloodied coat was hanging on a peg, weighing down the wall opposite to him. Silently, he got up, not forgetting to notice the hospital robe he was wearing. He sat down next to her, gently fondling her cheeks. It was his way of telling her he was awake and trying to wake her up as well. The clock on the nightstand told the time with pinpoint precision. Exactly three o'clock in the morning. The date was irrelevant to him. He didn't know how much he spent asleep.

Drowsily, after about ten minutes, Star finally woke up. When she saw Scott sitting beside her, tickling her with his hoarse, yet loving hand, she had to start blinking manually. She couldn't believe her eyes, so a question had to be asked, to confirm that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

"Sc-Scott…you…woke up?"

"Well, yeah. How long have I been out?"

"About two…weeks. Nobody thought you were going to wake up, they said you were in something called a 'coma', but I had no idea what that was. I just assumed that you had fallen, struck by some sort of sleep spell…"

"Oh, how I missed your childish common sense…" Scott remarked smirking. "We need to have a serious talk, Star," he added suddenly serious.

"We do, don't we? I'll start. Why, were you missing an arm, bleeding, wandering alone in the cemetery, at night, with a dagger…Why the heck were you so gloomy when you said that you had to go on business…What happened on your mission? What did you do…Why did you do all this…But most importantly," Star stopped, her mouth being closed shut by Scott's finger.

"What happened to me…I think Marco had told you a lot, hasn't he? He never struck me as the strong-silent type, so when you asked him, he chirped as a partridge in a pear tree, right?"

"Yes, he told me a lot…But I want to hear it from you." Taking a deep breath, Scott prepared himself for a long speech.

"Okay, Star. I will gloss over the details I think you've heard. You're wondering why I didn't come to you, right? It's because I was ashamed of myself…I didn't want to tell you everything that was going on in my head, because I thought you'd see me as weak, as a simple crybaby who is complaining that he had lost his precious toy. Also, I wanted to keep you safe…safe from my despair. I had fallen prey to depression, to anxiety, and I couldn't bear the thought of corrupting you, of destroying your innocence, your inherent joy, your purity. If you were showing the slightest hint of sadness, derived from my presence, I couldn't have forgiven myself. I just wanted you to be happy, to laugh, to learn, to develop as a person, and I knew that I had to not affect you with my self-loathing and grieving…I…just wanted to let you be happy…"

"I was happy…I never ceased to laugh, to feel good, but I couldn't help but question your behavior…I wanted to know, Scott. You can't imagine how much you hurt me, and I hurt myself, trying to understand the situation…"

Scott was looking at the floor, unable to look Star in the eyes, as if he were a child who was scolded. Not knowing what else to do, he hugged Star…He was holding back tears, as she rested her head on his cut and sewn shoulder.

"I hope that…at least you forgave me," he whispered in her ear. Her answer came determined and swift.

"I did, Scott…But, after all that Marco told me, I think I should ask you. Did you forgive yourself?"

Holding her tighter, he couldn't fight his emotions anymore. Warm tears had wet Star's long blonde hair.

"I did. Now, I actually did." And soon, the two had fallen asleep again, being woken by the morning light passing through the dirty window. Marco was the first to enter the room, at the crack of dawn. He was left a bit dumbfounded when he saw the two, their position being almost too comfortable to watch for him. Clearing his throat he asked, determined to raise them from their slumber:

"Scott?"

Opening his eyes in an instant, he replied:

"Yes, Marco? What is it?"

"That guy who had attacked us that fateful night…"

"Do you want to help me fight him?" Scott asked, all of a sudden, causing Marco to flinch. He had no idea what to answer, now that he was confronted with that he actually wanted to propose. After recovering from his surprise, he answered shortly:

"Yes."

"Then," Scott said, carefully separating himself from Star, getting the pillow from his bed and placing it under her head," let's head outside to talk this through. I have a lot to catch up with," he added grabbing the coat from where it was hanging.


	10. Another light

"Great, now that you had brought me all the way here, mind if you explain why did you choose to discuss this kind of things in a public place?" Marco's indignation was nothing if not well-founded. And it was justifiable as, perhaps, debating interdimensional wars, wasn't the most appropriate topic to share thoughts upon, in a coffee shop that is.

"I have got my reasons," Scott said, trying his best to keep the enigmatic aura, he once had. It was the middle of the day, a Saturday, no less, so undoubtedly there were numerous people of different shapes and sizes there. Two young, aspiring screenwriters, were sharing a cup of hot chocolate, as the weather got colder, whilst typing frantically what they could only assume was going to be their breakthrough. Unfortunate that they didn't think that, for their masterpieces to be read, they needed some sort of 'acquaintance'…In another corner there were four girls, laughing, one louder than the other in different pitches, ranging from alto to soprano. In the distance a cashier was yelling for a certain 'Mako', but unfortunately she was so naively wrong. Recognizing the mistakes of the careless vendor, Marco rose up and got his iced tea. Scott had nothing. Breathing in so many characters was enough for him and the hint of pumpkin was something to add on. He had missed just…being human. Despite belonging to a different time, that when no such luxuries were known, when coffee was but a luxury not yet discovered, when the only social contacts you'd have were in a market, he rejoiced every time he saw the wonders of the modern world. Scott wasn't like a grandfather discovering the Internet for the first time. He knew his way around most technology, albeit only a novice. After all, it was in his nature to want to learn everything, and do it in the easiest of ways, while at it. With so many inventions between the beginning of his life and now, he had to catch up, if he were to blend in…Scott knew there was going to be a time when he had to go back…Nothing lives forever, not even the longest dynasties of the Chinese Empire had lasted forever, so what would make the Butterfly family any different. They may have had some…exterior support, but so had others, yet this didn't stop any other families, from other universes, to fall. So in the unlikely event of everyone with Mewnian royal blood coursing through their veins, suddenly disappearing, he needed to be fit for today's society. This led him to study, in parallel, both Earth and Mewni's past, but the present as well. Now, it all paid off. He could act like a normal person, not raising any sort of red flags, and live his life as he should've…humanly. Marco soon returned with his beverage, curios as to why Scott had nothing.

"I'm fine without anything to drink. Besides, after staying in a coma for two weeks, I guess I should really watch what goes in my body," he simply answered, as Marco's eyes widened. He wasn't used to Scott speaking about himself in a self-preserving manner.

"I…see. So, would you mind answering the question I posed, before that lady butchered my name?"

"Cut her some slack, she probably has hundreds of different customers every day. It's normal to mistake someone's name from time to time," Scott innocently remarked. He had no idea that it was not just 'from time to time', it was all the time.

"Yeah, now stop derailing and answer me, will you? I like you more when you were blunt and upfront."  
"When have I ever been anything but that? Don't answer, I'm just joshing with you. The answer is more tied to me than it is to what we have to discuss. I wanted to be in a place filled with people, the less known the better. Now, you may ask why, to which I'll respond by saying that it's my 'rehab', so-to-speak. I've been isolating myself for so long, I need to get out in the world. What better place to socialize and share ideas than a coffee shop?"

Scott's answer wasn't what Marco wanted to hear, but it was more than what he hoped for. The logical course of action followed:

"So, what's the plan, Scott? Do we, ahem, storm his castle?"

"Well, I see no other option. It's going to be hard, lots of work and training, but we should manage. He is like me, after all, a loner, and we, as a team, should be able to defeat him. There is a catch, though," Scott said, waiting for his interlocutor to fall in his verbal trap. To his dismay, he cleverly avoided it.

"Lemme guess, we're a team, but he's got a whole army backing him up, so it's not the best idea to just go on, facing him on his home turf," Marco cynically added.

"Yes, that is correct, but we don't have a choice in the matter. He isn't stupid to be lured out and if he strikes us before we strike him, we'll be at an enormous disadvantage, a bigger one than we'd be if we fought with the element of surprise on our side."

"No argument there, but let me attract your attention on the key word here, team. Three people don't make one. He completely obliterated us in the graveyard…"

"Oh, yeah, what happened back there?" Scott asked as if he was just waking up from a pleasant dream. The word 'obliterate' apparently had no connotation for him, as it seemed the same as 'inconvenience' to the new and improved Scott. He seemed to lack the cynicism that put him on the map, but now in a way that deprived him of the common sense he needed at the time. Now, what was left after an experience that wasn't one of the most encountered in the life of a regular human, was a helpless optimist, one who would like to live the most of every moment. Marco didn't think that this change was welcome, and it didn't emanate anything else but more uncertainty than he was accustomed to. They needed the careful and calculated friend that never stepped outside his plans. Best for him was to stay in expectative, just see how things play out from here on. He started retelling the events with the precision of a camera.

"He came somewhat by chance, opening his portal a bit off from us, which lead to an awkward moment of him, beginning his speech facing the rusty fence, fact that he, himself had remarked. Star seemed to be oblivious to his appearance at first, but she felt like she had seen him before. Only after he had started talking, with an air of superiority, ironically condescending, did Star finally realize who this character was. Her reaction was to immediately raise her wand and fire a blast, deflected with ease by he, who identified himself as Britt. The result of this parry was a surge of lighting splitting the dark sky in two. What followed was an unusual exchange of words, mostly a monologue of the intellectually superior, (or in his conception, at least), that couldn't bear a minute to not have an ally as strong as Star. As many times as she clipped his wings, he seemed to get calmer and calmer, as opposed to me getting more restless. That burning ignorance, completely lacking the bliss it's said to possess, was what made me feel as a fire was raging below my feet. His words were hitting through the ominous silence like arrows shot in the dark…many, but few hit their target, but those who hit, were dead center. When he had started speaking about you, about your sets of skills, in parallel with your lack of power to further demonstrate them, Star's expression changed, instantaneously. Her blonde eyebrows faded in her dripping bangs, as he insulted you time and time again, only to come crushing back over her blue eyes when she had raised her wand yet again, striking him, cowardly. Not letting his guard down, Britt didn't choose to deflect the attack, but rather absorb it, turning her continuous rainbow beam into a little ball of light, he toyed with during the rest of the conversation. Luckily I was oblivious, and so were Star's friends, but they were scared, whereas I was intrigued…He didn't seem evil, just slightly disturbed, his thoughts curving through his brain, instead of getting straight on point. His intentions seemed what many people throughout history had in mind: gathering power, but this doesn't make him evil, does it? Either way, my personal opinion aside, you had chimed in at the exact time, Britt was the least attentive, as he was contemplating the horizon, conferring a peculiar aura of nostalgia to his entire posture, his white streaks of hair, falling through the cracks of his hat. That was the time Star was prepared to unleash her last attack, but thankfully, yet unfortunately in a way, she saw you, and stopped short. It was enough for Britt to start taunting her, focusing his attention span entirely on Star, leaving you the opportunity to strike. I believe you hit him right below the left lung, but you didn't even manage to steal a groan of discomfort from him. Britt just detached from your blade, letting you fall on the ground, with a gaping hole in your arm, while opening a portal. The last gesture he pulled off was the classic cowboy tip of the hat, as he turned his back to us, disappearing into the night. I believe that's about it."

Scott didn't say a thing during this entire conversation, undermining his habit of interrupting people. He did this part voluntarily, knowing that the people he talked to, usually had a solid enough train of thought to not derail when the first junction was dysfunctional, yet the involuntary part came from his desire of being the smartest in the room. His silence was, however misinterpreted by Marco, who thought that he didn't listen, being lost in his contemplation of the table's leg. His distant gaze betrayed an empty mind, but in fact, was the curtain behind the show of the backstage, a shield against the distractions of the outside. He was carefully measuring the facts, slowly, taking his time, which only made Marco angrier and angrier. It seemed like it was time wasted, in a place where his personal image was going to be tainted as well. He was fully aware that many pairs of intrusive eyes were watching the plain bland Hispanic boy, sitting at a table with one of the most strange of personas. Uncomfortable, he wanted to tell Scott that he wanted to go, but before the signal traversed his neurons and reached his mouth, he had already gotten up.

"Thank you for your time, Marco. I believe you have school tomorrow, right?"

Scott's question fell out of place, it made him lose his composure for a split second. Where the heck does this information fit in? It seemed as if it was asked just to keep a conversation going, in which case his answer fell quite out of place:

"Yes, what's it to you?"

"Oh, don't get so snippy, especially when you have no reason to. I asked you just to make sure. Living in Mewni for a while, I couldn't really sync up with Earth time, as a consequence I have no idea what day it is. Think of it as a curtesy, more than a means of being incisive. But, to answer appropriately, I'd like to pay a visit tomorrow. I hope I won't be out of place, there."

"And, would you mind sharing why do you feel this action is justified?" Marco asked, continuing the charade of playing the angry child.

"You said it yourself, we are only three, while a team is so much more than that, isn't it?"

"Wait…you're insinuating that…you'll be scouting the school. To find people. To fight against an interdimensional villain, no less."

"Precisely. You seem surprised that I am vague."

"I'm not surprised, just annoyed. I hoped you'll be a little more obvious, easy to read, and that I won't have to draw conclusions from what you said, and just get them from you, like I do with everyone else…" Marco replied frustrated. He was tired of playing games that served no other purpose than gratuitous entertainment. Scott's smile told him that he was just tickling the ego of an overzealous comrade, his remarks not even touching him in the least.

"Apologies, then. I will try to keep my inferences a little clearer in the future. But this doesn't mean I won't drop by tomorrow morning."

"Do you really think you can find anyone…worthy?" Marco gulped on the last word, just because it brought back some memories he tried to repress, that had to do with his 'training'. 'Worthy' had its meaning completely slandered in his vocabulary, because its very sense was now inexistent. It was just an adjective to pad out the length of a sentence.

"I know that. You may see them as nothing more but glue-sniffing, procrastinators, with your high grades and such, but I think I can filter out the general averageness of them all, and scoop out exactly what I need. Besides, they can't all be that monotonous. In every avalanche there is a special snowflake, that who punches you in the face the first and sticks with you when you're six feet under."

Scott referring to his colleagues as if they were inanimate objects bothered him on the one hand, but agreed with him on the other, as for him they were nothing more than acquaintances. He knew their names and their purpose in the school, but it ended there, as you know what a car is called and that it's meant to transport things. He didn't have the chance to meet up with new people, to test the ground, and that meant he was pretty lonesome, at a glance, but, as goes the general thinking trend of the generation, it's best to have a monastery of trustworthy nuns, than have a church filled with sinners. Less is more, especially when it came to friends, and a close circle of people that are reliable are worth more than you can afford to spend on many others lacking certain qualities. In his mind, there was now a seed of contempt towards Scott. Whereas when he was cold, not revealing many of his traits apart from a general disregard for everything that was not on his agenda, now that he actually revealed more and more of his character, it only now became clear who he was, in fact…His arrogance, and patronizing attitude made Marco's responses come off as tired grumbles, replies to a very insisting teacher, who forces you into thinking the exact same way he does.

"I think you're a bit overplaying your hand. Why would you need someone with absolutely no experience and, most importantly, magical prowess whatsoever? Don't we need people that have some sort of, I don't know, résumé that includes many an hour spent training and fighting evil?"

"Sometimes, being unprepared is the best preparation. Might be lazy planning, but the way I see it, the more spontaneous and diverse our 'team' is going to be, the higher the chances. Besides, we need one more human. I would explain, but I believe you are not interested in the way my runes work, are you?" Scott, not realizing, had spoken louder than usual. It's common that after spending some time in a coma, that your bodily functions don't work as they used to. Scott was a bit hard of hearing now, so his yells weren't completely unjustified, but, despite being involuntary, they were as shameful as ever.

"Not, for now. I'll ask you when the time is right, but in the meantime, try keeping it down, will you? I don't think shouting things like 'runes' and 'we need one more human' are the best ways to not be noticed," Marco scolded his friend, to which he replied laconically: "Apologies." This, didn't prevent the following scene, however. A girl, belonging to a group, had separated herself, chuckling, to follow suit, and approached the two. With a wide smile, a carefree attitude, and a mean-spirited question she managed to make Scott's day better.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, wizard, but we've overheard your little discussion. My friends and I wanted to express our sincerest apologies towards you. Being this delusional must be really painful for you, and knowing that you're going to be an outcast for the rest of your life has to keep you up at night."

Despite his newfound slight antipathy towards Scott, Marco was about to intervene. Just as he was about to stand up and tell the clueless girl to stop bothering them, Scott, smiling widely, told him with a glare to sit down. He turned to face the girl completely and started measuring her, top to bottom. She was a tad shorter than him, about two inches off, yet bulkier, borderline plump. Her hair was well-arranged, a true masterpiece of an expensive coiffeur, yet the pale black color was nothing out of the ordinary. A pair of dark brown, tedious and bored eyes completed her appearance. Scott also noticed how she couldn't help but tapping her right foot on the floor and shake her right wrist, which made her jingle bracelet chime. Stopping the contemplation of the girl before him, he looked away and said, calmly, with no maliciousness in his tone:

"I didn't realize that a person like you could be so thoughtful as to drop by and enlighten my day. Thank you…" he made a gesture as if he was asking for her name. Caught off guard, the girl turned different shades of red, as she stared unwillingly into his hypnotizing green eyes.

"E-Elise," she stuttered, taking one step back.

"What a beautiful name," Scott continued unhindered. "Now, why does someone such as yourself, with a heartening and pleasant presence, feel the need to attest her greatness over someone as meek as myself?" he continued determined, but not a hint of hatred in his speech.

"I…I…" she stammered baffled that she didn't break the spirit of her victim.

"I assure you, that there is no need to ever go around and defy people, just because they are different, or have certain beliefs, passions or affinities. I for one, may believe in magic, you may believe in whatever deity you choose, and yet we can live on the same Earth, can't we? There is a catch to this, though. I actually have something to show you. Would you be so kind as to hold my coat?" Scott said as he removed his long jacket, revealing his severed arm, much to the shock of Elise.

"Oh my…I'm so sorry…I didn't know…"

"Don't bother, I didn't intend to earn your pity by showing you my disability, but rather show you the error in your ways," Scott cut her apology short, focusing his attention on his stump. Looking into his pocket, he had pulled out a little dagger, that was glowing with a neon blue tint. Staring at the little girl he used as his hanger, he dug the blade deep inside his stump, as if his suicidal thoughts came back crushing to him. The yell of the people around was unavoidable, yet Marco was strangely calm, fact noticed by Elise, whose face was parted between awe and anger towards the unfazed boy.

"W-Why," she mumbled under her breath, tears coming rampantly into her eyes.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt," he said, pulling out the blade, only to let the blood spill on his hand. The red drops on his only available hand contradicted his words, and with innate precision while at it. As long as something was slowly being drained out of you, pain had to exist, even in the tiniest amounts, this is why Scott's charade didn't quite impress. However, what followed was bound to awe everyone interested enough to watch. Sighing unamused, Marco's eyes fell onto Scott's bleeding arm. With broad movements, Scott had the appearance of a magician, carefully using deception to baffle his audience. Marco was conscious of that, and was waiting for the curtain to drop so that he could leave and curse his stupidity that had made him pay the ticket. His eyes barely widened when he saw the lively green glow coming out the gaping hole he, himself had dug in his stump. The gasping of the crowd grew louder as that glow caught a shape, not being an incandescent formless ray anymore, but presenting itself in a multicolored display of lights. A truly brilliant show unveiled in the coffee shop as the sun was not shining bright enough to cover the shadows the interior radiance created. It was dark inside, but the vivid exhibition invigorated the place. It was as if it tried to tell a story, as two magenta rays separated from the rest, one visibly larger, forming two columns of light, at arm's length from each other. The bigger one seemed to bow down to the other, solemnly and apologetically, as it bowed its 'head' down, turning blue. Its consort followed suit, changing to an azure tint, which lead to its soulmate to turn around, in the air, engulfing itself with a flare of sangria. It seemed to be burning, red hot, while its partner was slowly turning to a mild sea green… The burning beacon had started to grow bigger, attracting in a specter, a multitude of other colors…first was lime, then gray, then a pale pink, and lastly, a pair of crimson and black. In the blink of an eye, the show had ended, and there was only one lone glow, dim enough to be unnoticeable in the enchanted, mysterious gloom…A brownish halo appeared around the deserted ray, gradually growing stronger and stronger, and as it grew, it separated from its creator and materialized itself into two other nebulous glimmers, one icy-blue, the other leaf-green. The three conflated into a blinding flash and disappeared into the abyss as soon as they appeared. Applauses followed, the crowd's reaction being doubled by limitless surprise. Scott turned to his interlocutor, whose tears weren't yet dried, and asked, simply:

"You are from one town over, are you?"

"Y-yes…we came in Echo Creek for the upcoming concert…"

"How quaint. I assume that one Star Butterfly, has acquainted you folks with magic, hasn't she?" Scott continued with an oratorical tone. The audience nodded in agreement. "Don't spread the word, Elise, just keep it to yourself. People will think you're out of your mind. Keep the magic inside of you, as it is only for the open-minded. Just enjoy it on your own, be selfish in this regard, as your pleasure should never be shared…it loses its innocence then. I hope it was an enlightening experience. Goodbye." The pun was intended, but it only added to the subtle irony of his speech. It carried no clear message, as its ambiguity blurred out any sort of conclusion that could be derived from it. However, no one could contest the beauty of his words. Marco saw only the disingenuousness of them.

The two left the coffee shop immediately after.

"What was the purpose of your little exhibition?" Marco asked, slightly bored by the entire representation, and annoyed at the general lack of meaning of the luminescent escapade from before.

"It hadn't any, Marco. I just wanted to show some outsiders the beauty of believing in the unbelievable."

This kind of metaphorical answers didn't really make Marco smile. He wasn't a big adept of literature and was a lover of hit you over the head lyrics, ergo his love for the band that was coming to concert again, the second time in five months, in Echo Creek. Ideals and abstract concepts were useless to an analytic, realist spirit. That's why he liked the cynical side of Scott more than this dream-filled melancholy he was passing through now. It was the mid-nineteenth century conflict, between two main artistic currents. Romantics preferred to be up in the sky, among the stars, the sky, the moon, the unknown and their elusive beauty, where the realists were tied to the earth, to the beauty of the fields, to whatever they could touch and feel. No wonder Marco didn't like this new ideology and mantra Scott adopted. It was a normal difference, as there are between tigers and panthers…Marco, thought he hid his slight contempt pretty well under a mask of disinterest, yet Scott wasn't really that stupid. He understood Marco, yet, as anyone else, he didn't like that. He told himself that he would try to be a little bit more down to Earth, just enough to cope with whatever support his friend needed, especially given his intentions. As they walked down the main road, heading towards the Diaz residence, Scott tried to see how far he should distance himself from his new life choices in order to get back into Marco's whitelist.

"You've been doing any sort of training on your own lately?" he asked seemingly foreshadowing a positive answer. To his surprise, he struck a nerve, as Marco lost his cool for a second there and answered hastily:

"No, not at all. Why? Did someone tell you otherwise?"

"Okay…" Scott said and thought at the same time. Perhaps not that blunt. A little polish should even it out.

"Well, I thought that if we have to follow our resolutions and gather a select group of people, we'll need some exercise, both individually and as a group. It'd be great if all the cogs were oiled before being put in the machine."

"I guess, you'll have to do the oiling all on your own." Too polished, now. A few pickaxes should make it a bit rougher around the edges.

"Look, Marco, at this point we're both lying to ourselves. I know that you got Hekapoo to train you, which she gladly did, just because of a certain sympathy she has towards you, and you know that as well. Now, I won't be able, now that I lack a certain pallet of skills, to do everything by myself, and I can't ask Star to do anything but train because of obvious reasons. My question is if you'd be willing to ease me of some of the burdens, so we could do everything as fast as possible, leave our enemy no chance to grow stronger than we can handle."

That was more like it. It was as if the old Scott was back, a certain degree of superiority, yet as humble and down to business as usual. However, careful as he was, Marco was reserved with his opinions. He replied that he'd have to give it a little bit of thought before deciding. The sun set over the horizon, leaving just the faint glows of the dusk to light their path. Thankfully, they made it before nightfall. As if they just acquainted for the first time, the two split up silently, Scott reminding Marco that he'll be there first thing tomorrow, to pick him up. This made the Hispanic boy frown and rush faster into the room. Sighing, Scott opened a portal and soon, he appeared back on Mewni, in the middle of a corridor, in the west wing of the castle. Tip-toeing, he made his way into Star's room which was right around the corner. Gently cracking the door open, he noticed the luxurious blonde hair, falling out of the new, shiny bed, he himself had fixed before leaving to face Britt. She was sleeping. Worth noting that Mewni isn't really in the same time-zone as Earth. It's about a six hour gap, therefore, leaving at dusk on Earth, translated to arriving two hours after midnight, on Mewni. Scott forgot that and regretted that he didn't come back earlier. Now, he'd have to leave without telling her, for the second time in two days. Unaware, he walked until he reached the middle of the room, and only then he came to this conclusion. Silent as a cat, he snuck his way out of the room, but the old, creaking floor had hindered his stealthy attempt to exit. Only half-asleep, Star woke up.

"W-who's there," she asked, rubbing her eyes, as she got out of bed.

"It's just me. I wanted to see if you were awake."

"It's two o'clock…"

"It was barely eight when I left Earth."

"Oh…Where have you been? You left me stranded at the hospital, sleeping next to an empty bed. I felt stupid."

"I went for a coffee with Marco. We had a little talk, a chit-chat about the upcoming battle-plans. Sorry I didn't tell you, you were still sleeping and I left at the crack of dawn," Scott said, apologetic and humble.

"It's okay, just give me a heads-up next time. I was worried you might have gotten delusional again…The doctors said you had lost a lot of blood, and that lead to you having hallucinations, as if you were haunted by your worst nightmares. They made some sort of analysis, and also concluded you have the brain activity of someone with severe PTSD, anxiety and depression, but I didn't know half of those words. They also told me to give you these," Star said, looking in the bag on her nightstand and taking a small bottle of pills out of it.

"Oh…Well, that is kind of true…I've had some problems in the past, but I hope that this experience had helped me put everything behind me. These should help, though. One flower doesn't make it spring, does it now? But, anyway, since you're awake, and I think you don't plan on going to sleep anytime soon, let's talk."

"About…? It's pretty late, and I am not the burning the midnight oil pretty good. Unless you didn't notice, I'm a very sunny person, so I naturally love daytime more than nighttime."

"And I am pretty gloomy, therefore I am the opposite. And you know what they say about opposites, right?"

"I…have no idea."

"Never mind, then, earthly idiom anyway. Back on topic. Tomorrow morning, I'll be going to where you had studied for an entire school year, to scout the area for talents…"

"Say what? You're planning on becoming a manager in the near future, or…"

"I mean, I'll be on the lookout for some people to help us defeat Britt…By my calculations, a human should be the right addition to our mixt team of do-gooders."

"You believe in the three's a charm rule? 'Cause that'll be the third, counting you and Marco."

"Either way, I was wondering if you'd like to come, you know, reunite with those whom you had left behind and that you hadn't gotten in touch with for a long time."

"What do you mean? I've seen all my friends from Earth…Janna, Starfan13, I've even passed by Mindy when I was walking towards the same coffee shop you and Marco must've gone to."

"Yeah, that place is a pretty common meeting ground for many of Echo Creek's population, it seems…Anyway, Star, aren't you leaving someone out?"

"I choose to think, as the wisdom-filled princess I aim to be, that I certainly am not."

"How about…Jackie? Remember her?"

"Owww, right," Star said, her look dropping from her usual shine, to a slight dismay. "I don't think she's the one to hold a grudge, yet the two of us have tormented the two of them, albeit involuntarily, haven't we?"

"Yes," Scott replied, putting his arm around her," and I guess this is as good a time as any to make amends. I told Marco about that whole scouting deal, but that was only a pretext, to throw him off. Even though I tried warming up to him, he still hasn't gotten past many of my mistakes. The only state he agrees with me is when I am the original me, the one you have met when I first came back on Earth…"

"Cynical and rigid? Yeah, I can imagine that happening. Marco usually needed someone reliable to stand by him, as he was lacking a certain amount of wits, you helped him gather, when you set him on that quest to protect me, when you had been summoned. Now that you're powerless, he sees only your made-up arrogance, right?"

"I've never heard you making more sense, in my entire life," Scott said with a weird mix of praising and surprise in his tone. "Yeah, so I tried to make him trust me, just a tiny bit, so I could, hopefully, reach him when he is in a more comfortable setting."

"Well, you've got that going for you, but I've got nothing. Back in the graveyard, apart from a reminiscence of our friendship, a vestigial memory, Marco treated me as a complete stranger…I don't know what to do to make it up to him. And to top it all off, he's got Jackie as well, who might not be as 'cool' about me as she usually is. After all, Marco left her for me, then I broke his heart, and now there is an entire array of problems arising from this event alone. What are we gonna do?"

"Is it going to help telling you that I've got a plan?" Star smiled, yet her joy turned to a slight frown.

"You and your plans…I don't know how I feel about this. You're good at carefully tinkering with variables, yet this is something sensible, beyond your broad reach. I think it's best we leave this to chance…"  
"Will it help, again, to say that my plan is for both of us to make up a heartfelt, completely sincere, speech about how we're sorry, how wrong we were, and how we shouldn't have done anything like that?"

"Pfft, it sounds as childish as I'd have made it. I assume you have something different in mind, right? You failed to express it in a clear manner. You disappoint me," she jokingly scolded Scott, who for a moment believed her, until he noticed her quaint chuckles.

"Well, I believe we can make use of subtlety…I have tried it earlier and it seemed to work, if not blatantly, at least subconsciously," Scott replied thinking of his impressive light show from early on.

"Let's hope we are creative enough," Star continued, letting her head fall on his shoulder. He kissed her gently on the forehead, then whispered.

"I can't imagine you anything but that…"


	11. Decisions, decisions

While Scott and Star were discussing in the solitude and silence of the sleeping royal palace, the night was still young on Earth It was only half past eight when Marco jumped on his perfectly made bed, and grabbed his phone. He had some talking of his own to do. Searching for Jackie's number, he was absently tapping his foot on the floor, seemingly anxious to share his thoughts with his girlfriend. After two swift rings, she picked up, answering in her usual, laid-back tone, with a line that has become a chorus to the two's poem.

"Hey, Marco."  
"Oh, hi, you busy?"

"It's almost nine and it's Sunday. What do you think, Mr. Deductive?" That was a nickname that had been derived from early September. It was a rainy day, and there was no way to get around that. The stubborn wind, blew with an enormous power, expressing his desire for umbrellas to be useless for that day. As gloomy as the weather was, the interior was lively. The school was almost starting, so it was best to make the most out of the last days of freedom, before they'd graduate to the big boys. It was a difference that defined the passing from tween to teen, going from junior high to the freshman year of the top part of secondary education. However, whenever it seems that you're growing up ever so forcibly fast, you feel the need to go back to the good old days, where there were no cares in the world, other than playing. The auspicious sun, who had chosen to hide his life-giving glow underneath a curtain of clouds had hindered any attempts of using any playgrounds or doing anything that involved outdoors, so the down-to-earth kids have decided to go on a slightly nerdier road. This is why, when the wall-mounted clock had beaten five times, Marco's living room table was covered entirely by the board of a game, aptly named "Find him!" It was a role-playing game, where every player was being given a role. There was one sole killer, while the others had the only job to find him, but they had to be careful, as one foul move and they were out. Law-enforcement and neutrals were battling to find the murderer, hidden by an intriguing plot: the death of a wealthy business man, has sparked insidious conflicts between his inheritors, as everyone's greed comes out in play. The six of them, Marco, Jackie, Alfonzo, Fergusson, Starfan13 and Janna were all captivated, but alas, it all came down to Marco's wits to unmask the killer which was Janna, who exclaimed, in a fit of both frustration and relief (that her stress was over): "If it weren't for Mr. Deductive over here to ruin my plans, I'd have murdered you all and taken all of your money!" And, to this day, that nickname stands.

"I'll suppose you aren't, but given that you've been gone for the past two weeks, because your family knows how to book a holiday mid-semester, I'll take my chances with the question."

"I'm free, Marco," she answered giggling. "And I'm back from my trip around the globe, that I've been waiting to do for quite a while. What's up?"

"Glad you asked…There's quite a lot we need to talk about. The past couple of weeks have been nothing if not out of the ordinary…" Marco replied, his voice taking a deeper tone than usual. As if to sync, his door creaked loudly, moved by the airflow between his open window and the house entrance down below, which was left open by his father, who decided to take a walk on the driveway.

"Woah, you sound as if you saw a ghost rise from the dead…"

"That's exactly what I saw."

"Well, since Star was in town, I believe that is not entirely out of the question, yet I strongly doubt that is the case. So, what was so lugubrious that spooked you out that much?" Jackie sounded worried, but more so about Marco, than about what actually went on in her absence. Intrigued, yet a bit scared of the effect the unknown ordeal could've had upon him, she dropped the unpacking she had to do and lay herself on her waterbed, that bounced her up and down a few times, until it finally rested, just in time for Marco to recollect his thoughts and spill them out.

"It all started when I found a trail of blood coming from the middle of my living room carpet and stretched like a maroon snake towards the kitchen…"

Marco hadn't left out anything when retelling the events that lead to him somewhat swearing allegiance to an elusive team of individuals to whom he had no liking or connection with whatsoever. He, himself was surprised that Scott had come back to him, but he couldn't express why he did what he did. Perhaps, it was the nostalgia of the past, coming back to him, or perhaps it was a spur of the moment, whose root was in the brisk nature of Scott's proposal. It was as if he forced it on him, manipulating him, controlling his thoughts and actions with a simple word. This made him appreciate him, but his contempt was now founded. Jackie wasn't on another side either. She didn't know much about him, yet she didn't think highly of him, albeit since she had every piece of information from Marco, who wasn't the most objective of observers. What was the focus of her ideas, at the moment was Star, who had somehow managed to sneak her way back into the plot. It was as if she was the one who came back from the dead, the realm of the inexistent for him, and now her intentions were unclear. But whether if they were purely to reignite an old friendship, or with romantic undertones, she didn't like it…Even though, she willingly let Marco go before, just because it didn't work out, but deep down, she couldn't lie to herself, after that had happened, her opinion on Star changed, involuntarily so. It was something out of instinct…hating the one who stole your love, so she couldn't help it. Anyway, it was best to keep it on a low profile. No need to express lack of sympathy out in the open. It was gratuitous mean-spirit, and Jackie wasn't one to be hurtful for no reason.

"So, what are they going to do now, that this guy has come creeping in their lives and turned them upside down?"

"Yeah, about that…Scott is going to come tomorrow morning at our school, in order to 'scout for talents'…I don't know how to feel about this…" Marco's words came out so pathetically that they moved Jackie down to her toes. She dropped every reminiscence of her thinking to finish unpacking and grabbed her helmet from the closet, while her skateboard was waiting for her just outside the window. Her house had an exterior stairway that surrounded the backside of her house's top floor. It was a kind of elevated porch, its corner having a narrow circular set of stairs, the green paint being washed out by the years. The building was old, but not broken down, as her parents put a lot of care into fixing up the place. Not much attention was put into the aesthetic of the back side, as no one would ever come there, as a steep hill blocked down any attempt to reach her home. It was a strategic position, useless in today's times for them, but extremely useful for sneaking out, without anyone noticing. Not that they'd get mad or anything, but she had no time to explain her behavior, nor the mood to justify her actions. In the blink of an eye, she was surrounded by the soundwaves of wheels rolling down the uneven pavement, as she made her way down Main Street. The moon was shining brightly above her, lighting her way, where the broken lampposts failed to do so. It didn't take her long to get to Marco's house, a true beacon of light. She didn't count on the fact that the echoes of her arrival were heard through his thick window, so she immediately grabbed a small rock, and threw it at his window. As cliché as that was, it never failed to show results, as Marco immediately appeared at the window. She entered the house, greeted the family, who was oblivious as always, or perhaps, used to strangers, ever since Star dropped into their lives. At the top of the stairs, her boyfriend was waiting for her. Taking her by her left hand, he led her to the guest room, that served as a home to Star for an entire year, but now was just harboring an enormous hole in the wall. Marco sat down, his feet dangling out the ledge and Jackie followed suit. It was a beautiful perspective, a majestic sight to behold, as the stars in the sky, formed a bridal gown for their crowned queen. Glimmering, they gave the idea of endlessness, a feeling that was so needed for them, especially given the separating circumstances they were, unbeknownst of each other, facing at the moment. For a couple of minutes they stayed in utter silence, just enjoying the view and each other's company. Jackie let her head fall on Marco's shoulder, as he put her arms around her, seemingly protecting her from the darkness outside. They were now one silhouette, going up and down, as they breathed in the cold air of the night. However, as pleasant and quaint this moment of utter numbness was feeling, she didn't come here just to be lost in the moment. She was here to comfort him, so, easing into the subject, she asked, almost whispering:

"You know why I came over?" Her voice was soft and soothing, as if she was trying to mend a broken soul, although that was not the case. Marco wasn't deductive, except for when it came to logical reasoning. In the matters of the heart he wasn't versed and psychological subtleties didn't ring any bells either. Yet, he'd be stupid not to realize that he was the cause she was here, however, he couldn't infer deeper than that, so he innocently answered:

"Of course…you came for me didn't you?"

"Yes, dummy, obviously, but I came because I was worried you might be, again as broken as you were for the first time you called me after our break-up…"

"I…I didn't know that," he answered ashamed.

"So?"

"So what?" Marco continued his confused behavior that was genuine in its entirety.

"So, are you, again on the verge of a semi-mental breakdown, as you were when Star had left you, again, that is?"

"Well, no, obviously. Nothing had happened, yet. But they just came in, crashing into our lives, without any warning and they are single-handedly messing up the calm and peace I've finally reached. I enjoyed my life with Star, going on about finding pleasure in reckless behavior and finally…'living', but I find that, in retrospect, a necessary bad deed, something that educates and instructs…All that stuff with interdimensional wars, evil lizard-men and weird avian creatures are to live without…I like how things are now, no conflicts, no battles to be fought, but now, I'm being led to think that it is something I don't wish. For the first time, I don't know what to do, if I should try this again, or if I should just stay put…"

"Well, do _you_ want to partake in this new battle? Do you miss your old lifestyle? Because, from what you're saying I can't draw a conclusion." Jackie was visibly worried. She said 'you' as if she was talking to a stranger, hiding inside Marco…She smiled a bit when he referred to the situation as 'our lives'. This gave her the hope that history wouldn't repeat itself, yet she was as uncertain as ever…Marco was obviously conflicted, he didn't look as if he had things figured out for himself. Whether he'd fight and continue his adventurous life from where he left off, or will he remain to the commodity of his newfound peace…The way he was contemplating the seemingly wretched war he had been a part of was off. It sounded like he missed it, to some extent. She knew that it wasn't a fight between an unscrupulous life and a careful one, it was a fight between her and Star, despite he wasn't aware of this. That's exactly what made Jackie's job harder, but she had to try, just because she loved him, to keep him where, he belonged.

"I have no idea, Jackie…Something tells me that I'll regret not doing it, but I don't know if it'll be best not to worry about it, either. It's that sort of double-entendre, that goes both ways, whatever you'll do to it, and I hate it, it gives you the lack of choice, it is presentable liberty…Whatever I'll do there is no way to avoid remorse, and I can't take any more of that. I just got out of so many, and going back into this fight, that is more psychological than physical, just freaks me out; it's terrifying, this destiny…"

Jackie was dumbfounded. She had no answer for that. It wasn't the best thing to come in person, it only added more pressure on her to give immediate answers, to offer instantaneous resolutions that would aid the cause, but now she felt that she was overwhelmed. Marco was for her, always the logician, the realist, not really so dilemmatic, so preoccupied with this genre of problems. On the one hand she was mad that she had no solution, but on the other she was baffled and positively surprised to see that he was more than met the eye. This new layer of him was a hope…although it was hardly clear why. She kissed him on the cheek, lightly and, not to tip him off, whispered:

"Don't worry. Tomorrow is a new day. We'll talk after the two put on their dastardly show…"

The moon set and the sun rose to the sky, as Scott patiently waited, in front of Marco's house, for him to get ready. He didn't know the way to school, but Star did, therefore she was going to meet up with them right before they'd enter. That was all on paper, because Star had a custom to be, as her social status dictated, royally late, and Marco didn't seem to hurry either. Scott knew that the school hours usually start at 8 o'clock, and since he didn't know any better, at seven thirty he was tapping the stiff driveway slabs, anxiously waiting for his plan to begin. He wasn't at all surprised when he saw his 'friend' coming out of the house, looking as unwilling as ever, but he attributed it to the combination of waking up early and having to go to school, rather than just seeing him, which was the cause of his misanthropy. As if he didn't notice him, Marco had taken the lead, with Scott following him. They looked as out of place as beef at an Indian banquet table, a rather tall, skinny, one-armed boy, dressed in a long coat, with a green sweater underneath and washed-up brown pants, while the other was grumpily walking at an accelerated pace in front of him, wearing his signature black jeans-red hoodie combo.

It was a short walk from Marco's house to Echo Creek High, yet the silence between the two only padded its duration by an insidious amount. They were about halfway when Scott decided that it was time to break the icy muteness, with a polite question, that seemed to be the only means he could've forced a conversation with his friend.

"What classes do you have today?"

The instant he had finished his sentence, he regretted ever asking it. However, Marco answered, not a hint of cringe in his response:

"It's Monday, so three Maths in a row, then Biology and we end with two of Gym class."

"Sounds a bit crowded…"

"You get used to it after a while. You should know that." Scott didn't know what Marco was driving at, and frankly, neither did Marco. At this point, Marco was snippy just for the sake of being snippy. That was the last bit of dialogue between the two. Thankfully, they didn't have to endure the quiet for long, as the screams of children were being heard all around the school, they had finally reached. Being the only one in the area, you could understand that it had to have a certain grandeur to it…It was about the size of ten small parks, and it had the common U shape. There were other adjacent buildings, such as the gym or something that reminded Scott of a containment center, but the main one was the one they entered. There was an interior courtyard, where many people were gathered, around someone. The human wall was impenetrable, so Scott and Marco couldn't see whoever was causing such a ruckus, but they both had a hunch they knew the culprit, based solely on the rainbow colors the sky was painted in. Making their way through the dense crowd wasn't an easy task, but they managed to get to the center, where they had found the missing piece in the old trio, doing what she was best known for. Careless and colorful magic flooded the air, as Star was putting on a show fit for the most prestigious of concerts, much to the awe of the crowd. Taking a look around, Marco realized that these people were all younger than him, thus they didn't get to experience any of Star's shenanigans. The princess was so caught in her act that she didn't notice a small ant, dislodging from the swarm and approaching her.

"Well, you surely are impressive, aren't you?" Scott asked as he stood right below the cloud Star was resting upon.

"Finally, you got here," she replied jumping down into a hug. "You came with Marco, didn't you?"

"Yeah, he should be right behind…" Scott answered without looking to see that his friend had actually left.

"He's gone…Thankfully, Janna is right there," Star said pointing to her friend who was currently laying down on a chair made out of marshmallow, eating its armrests. Hearing her name, she raised her head, like a startled gopher, with a mouthful of candy and replied as if she was at a rollcall:

"Here!"

"And she will…"

"She's in the same class as the two we should make amends to, so…"

"We'll have an inside man and we'll reach our goal."

"Sure…" Star sounded a bit discouraged. They had discussed about the whole planning ahead deal, yet there he was, going with strategies all over again. Taking him to the side, as her magical display ended, she tried to (again and hopefully for the last time as they were running out of time to resolve what to do) make sure that they were on the right track. She wasn't looking the happiest, that's all that Scott could think, although he couldn't fathom what in the world could bother her here, where she, surprisingly, felt great.

"Scott, you hadn't gotten around making one of your weird plans for this thing, did you?"

"No…I promised you I wouldn't, and I am a man of my word. Don't worry about it, it's going to be alright…"

Positive reinforcement was what she needed now, because indeed, her heart was in her throat. She didn't want to have 'enemies', unless they were the result of a difference in moral standpoints, and more so, when they used to be close friends. It was her fault, for meddling with Marco's feelings, being hot and then cold, yet it was…No, it felt unforgivable. She was an open person, not one to hold grudges, yet she couldn't say the same thing about Marco, who had a certain level of disliking for many people not sharing his beliefs. And when one of those ideologies he guided himself after was loyalty, a very knight-like conduit, and she had betrayed that. In her acceptance, if she were to think like he would, this gesture here was pointless. It was just a charade of blank and bland apologies, that were as hollow and meaningless as their presence here. They came here, only to spill their mishaps from the past onto people that had no implication in the fact. It always rolls downhill, and the top is always the culprit, whereas the bottom is the meek who shall inherit the mistakes. Star felt bad all of the sudden, being here coming as more of an obligation, rather than a leisure. They were forcing themselves back into the lives of people they had destroyed, and it felt weird. There was a weird tug, something inside that told her it was somehow the right thing to do, but every single detail pointed out that it was a gratuitous and uncomfortable gesture, for all four of them (because she had remembered Jackie was surely in this thing), and it served no purpose apart from wasting everyone's time. They all were good as they were, separated, in two different worlds, yet it was hard to let go of something you've cared so much about. The saying tells you only to renounce something you love, only for your bond to be tested, yet it never tells how difficult that actually is…Confused, she shared her thoughts with Scott, who answered enigmatically, yet understanding the situation.

"I don't know what we have to do either. It doesn't help that we are both in the same frame of mind, nor that it tells us to quit. We've gone so far, best we at least try to not make our worst…We came here for no reason, though. This ordeal could've been done in private…I guess if we're to fail, we must make it heard."

This was exactly what she didn't need to get from him…The bell rang monotonously, signaling the ending of the recess and the start of the class. The courtyard emptied and looked like a desert, the only thing missing was a tumbleweed rolling in the last plane of the background. Star followed Janna, while Scott hung back. He wasn't going in the class, not now and when asked why, he replied simply: "I don't need to." This was his way of expressing apparent lack of concern. He remained on a bench, leaning on its backrest. He reached into his left pocket, which proved to be extremely difficult. After more than it should have taken him, he managed to pull out what he needed, a small book. Thankfully an old-fashioned pen was still there. Laying the book on his legs, he started writing, praising the fact that he was ambidextrous.

"I've got a bad feeling about this...We made a mistake coming here and Star was right, but my ego can't take another failure. I've got to at least try to get back what we both had and what we both lost, because of me. Marco is dilemmatic, he doesn't know whether he hates me or not, yet, but I can't afford to lose another ally, nor another friend. He is surely on the verge of giving up on both me and Star, and I don't think that his girlfriend (whose name I unfortunately do not know), is any more fond of us. We have to carefully plan our moves, despite Star insisting to do everything heartfelt. She is well-intended, but unfortunately, with this kind of circumstances, I can't let anything to chance. I'm ashamed that I had to lie to her, and to manipulate her into thinking that she'll make something up on the spot…Star will just have to play into my hand, and I loathe myself for forcing her to do so. On a side note, I'm going to have to do my job as well and that is actually scouting for talents…It's funny that I won't be doing that at all, because I have a person in mind, already. If she accepts, then I win, but if she refuses I'm doomed…This makes it all the more difficult to know the course of action, because it's going to be a hit or miss, whether we do what Star wants, or what I want…But in the end, I'll have to take this decision on my own. Star is a great person, loving, caring, kind and brave alike, dauntless in her own way, while her steadfast presence, albeit hindered in the last couple of months, behooves all her flaws, masking them. But, even though her qualities are admirable, they are useless for me, at the moment. The world is filled with cold, desolate people, whose general thoughts usually fall into the mean-spirited ones. She is too pure, still too childish and innocent to actually see past the rainbows. Even though she knows her way around the mind and is extremely empathetic, I can't trust her with such decision, yet. That's the hardest part of her training, and my relationship with her only makes it harder for me to help, because I'd have to alienate myself from her, in order to teach her the most valuable, yet the roughest lesson…It always is a game of variables and perhaps the odds could be in my favor, at least this time, for once…"

Scott sighed and let his pen for far too long on the old paper, and it ended up sucking more ink than it should, leaving a significant dot at the end of his journal entry. Unaware of the stain, he put his diary back in his pocket, this time his left one, so it would be easier to get out. He got bored of waiting and staying out in the pleasant glow of the autumnal sun, so he decided to wander off, explore the school. He hadn't been in an educational institution for more than three centuries, on Earth, that is. It was about time for his mind to sync up the image of a school, as the one he had stored in a file cabinet was pretty outdated. He found the building pretty bland, whereas the picture he had painted was filled with details, sculptures, a true beacon of culture, the one he had schemed was filled with boring patterns, those of the floor tiles and beige walls. The classes weren't really standing out, either. Same doors with different labels, each being a slightly more depressing mirror of the other. The professors were absently reciting a lesson they had learnt by heart, by this time, and offered absolutely no insight, while the students were writing mechanically, nodding in agreement when the professor broke the symphony of pencils grazing the paper, writing mindless notes. School wasn't anymore an institution of education, it was nothing but a factory, fabricating people with no personality, and whatever uniqueness would develop it was crushed before it even developed. Marco had to thank Star for her influence, and so should all the people in Echo Creek High. They've experienced something that, on a careful analysis, was to be envied by one and all. It broke the mold the souls of the pupils were being willingly poured into, and offered them an exuberant perspective. Her shenanigans had brought a spark in the darkest of nights, enlightening her colleagues, both voluntarily and subconsciously. Walking around always benefited Scott. He made better connections when faced with changes of scenery, just because his mind was tying up ideas on the go…Now he had another point to make. The clock on the wall said that it was half past eight, so twenty minutes to go until recess. His heavy steps' echoes stopped when he saw a familiar silhouette engulfed by a golden cupola of hair. Not wanting to disrupt the class of the troll teacher..."Wait, troll teacher?" Scott asked himself, only for the question to answer itself…Star was in this class, so obviously someone had to 'suffer' the consequences of her presence. Still, he spotted an empty desk in the back of the class, right near her, so he grabbed his dimensional scissors and used his knowledge to open a portal, just big enough for him to fit and not attract attention. That would've worked, if it weren't for the loud noise passing through dimensional warps made, which attracted the attention of all neighboring seats. However, as brainwashed, tired and oblivious as they were, Star was the only one to truly notice him.

"Decided to chime in, right now, have we?" Star asked smiling, as her confused look, derived from looking at a calculus filled blackboard, changed to a relieved smirk.

"Yeah, I've got bored of sitting all by myself and thought that I'd rejoice in doing some Maths…"

"Will you two keep quite back there?" the troll, also known as Ms. Skullnick roared as she turned to face the mindless students. "Star, you missed for half the semester and returned just now, and you," she said pointing to Scott," I've never seen you before. Who are you? On second thought, scratch that, I don't care, but as long as you're here, mind solving this problem?"

Star was ready to answer for him, but Scott had already gotten up and made his way to the teacher's desk. He grabbed a piece of chalk, being careful not to show his face to his audience, and started writing, what seemed to be Aramaic to Star. It was a simple quadratic equation, but he had to prove that it had a certain number of solutions between two numbers…It was something that was taught a lot later on, yet Scott had written it in about two minutes tops, much to the bizarre amazement of the crowd. Marco, who was sitting in the front desk, had his jaw hitting the floor. Scott never struck him as a connoisseur of the exact sciences, he seemed to be a humanist, not a realist, but apparently he had an extensive knowledge of calculus. He didn't have time to be baffled, as he heard Jackie calling him from behind, asking him: "Who's that?" to which he replied simply: "The root of all my dilemmas."

"You done?" Ms. Skullnick asked, looking up from her notes, only for her eyes to widen when she saw the solved problem, and in record time for that matter. "Okay, then," the teacher continued, regaining her composure," since you're so good, solve this as well." She took out an old issue of the "Mathematics Olympiad" and showed him an exercise that had more text than a short story…Scott solved it in the blink of an eye. Undiscouraged, she showed him another exercise and this back and forth, involuntary one-upping continued until the bell told them to break it up. The class emptied instantly, as if the students were rats crawling through a hole towards the light.

Back, in the court, Scott and Star had tried to start their apologies. First thing they had to do was locate the two, which proved to be the easiest task, as they were by the centerpiece of the yard, sitting side by side, Marco's arm tightly wrapped around Jackie…Scott could've sworn that Marco saw them, and then tightened his grip, ostentatiously, however it was unknown whether that was the case or not. It was best if they approached the inseparable duo, from different ends, so they wouldn't see them and flee, like the two deer they were, but that was harder in practice than it was on paper. The crowded nature of the venue was making it easy for them to lose visuals of their targets…It sounded more like a rescue mission than an amical attempt to make amends. That was partly Scott's fault, but Star thought the same, despite with a slight difference in terms…Their path was strange, but effective, as they snuck their way, agile like a pair of squirrels. However…serendipity strikes in the most unfortunate of chances. Before they could've assaulted their slight frowns with their innocent "Hey", a portal exploded behind them, destroying the beautiful well, reimagined as an enormous flower pot. The second he heard that familiar noise, he jumped out of the way, sheltering the person next to him, reflexively. After the dust had settled, he saw that he saved Jackie, while Marco was in a pink bubble, behind Star. Out of the portal, no one else but Britt had stepped out.

"Seriously? Here? Now? You know you've got a knack for choosing the most inappropriate of times to blink back into our lives. You've got a reason for your untimely appearance, or do you just want to taunt us?" Scott asked, as if he was talking to a small child. Britt didn't answer, but he pulled Marco and Jackie from their respective protectors, and pushed them into Star and Scott, respectively, knocking them down like the human-sized bowling pins they are.

"Look, I'm pretty mad, and decided that it'd be a good time to blow off some steam by paying you a visit. It's your fault you're here with so many witnesses and potential innocent casualties."

"Marco, what the heck is going on?" Jackie asked, as she regained consciousness and saw her boyfriend standing up near her, while Scott helped Star up.

"He's the guy from the graveyard," Marco replied laconically, clenching his fist on the dimensional scissors that rested inside his hoodie's right pocket.

"That's how you present me to your friends? How rude…I should teach you a lesson, now," he said, creating a flock of flying needles in front of him, shortly afterwards pushing them towards him. Marco jumped out of the way, only for the sharp metal strands to follow him, but as enchanted as they were, they followed the laws of motion, coming to a stop a good number of feet after missing the swift boy. This put them on a trajectory that intersected Jackie as well, unbeknownst of Marco. He thought that the attack was done, but when he turned his head, he was frozen on the spot to see how fast the pointy ends of the steel thorns were approaching Jackie. The only thing he could do was yell her name, in hope that it would call down the mercy of a higher being, but he closed his eyes so that the end result would be a surprise, because they were mostly pleasant. When he opened them again, a short while after, period of time he had no recollection of, due to shock-induced amnesia, he felt a tight grip on his chest, and he was greeted by the light colored hair of Jackie, tickling his chin. Looking to her former position, he saw Scott, standing with the disjointed blade of a pair of dimensional scissors in his hand, while an open portal in front of him, granted the tall boy a mystic halo. On the opposite end, there lay Britt, encased in a blue shield that cracked open, to reveal that his pale face had two scratches.

"Okay, looks like you've gotten out your bad mood and aren't the easy target you were before…How-EVER," he said, his voice cracking, providing a maniacal undertone to his speech," don't think I don't know what to do to break it again…I've met this people before, quite recently, and you seemed to care deeply about them when you, imprudently, stabbed me with that wicked dagger of yours…Therefore," he said grabbing Star( who was unconscious, as a consequence of the consecutive shock she had to withstand, trying to protect Marco over herself) and Marco, forcing him out of Jackie's grip," I'm going to have to resort to a slightly eviler plan."

Scott foresaw the next action and threw his blade at him, but Britt wasn't stupid, nor slow to think and act. As soon as his telekinetic glow touched the two, he was half retreated into his portal. By the time he finished his taunt, Scott's dagger had nothing to stab, but the solid stone slab that was serving as a testimony of the monument that reigned there, beforehand. Now the courtyard was empty, once again, and the startled students, continued their monotonous display of amazement, repeating the same phrases as a flock of parrots. Jackie was left hugging the air, small tears forming in the corner of her green eyes, in a desperate attempt to deny the facts, and she was broken down to the heartbreaking reality by Scott, who knew how to act and speak with tact and kindness:

"Look, I know that what happened is hard to understand, and to take in, but…I want you to know it's my fault, and that no one but me is to blame, however, what's done is done. The two are gone, and to make matters worse I know the fortress they had been taken to, but I have no idea how to get there…I can't understand the pain you're feeling right now, as much as you cannot understand mine, but I hope that you'll be able to look past our strained acquaintance and…"

He tried his best, but Jackie was still dismayed, letting her bangs cover her face…His words, filled with as much candor and warmth as he was capable of, didn't budge her. Scott continued, though, knowing that he had nothing to lose, if he just kept on trying. He spoke again, ignoring the sobs and hiccups that had interrupted him the first time.

"And you'll come and help me…That person, that evil-doer, because he isn't anything else, is the single most dangerous one in this entire universe and I can't defeat him alone…"

"And why would I help you?" the crying girl asked between two waves of tears.

"Why? Because you, yourself want this…Your love had been kidnapped, taken away from you, a second time, but now it's not impossible to get him back…It's not his heart that was removed, but his body. I am sure that he is thinking of you, as you are thinking of him, only that you are the one who was the will and the power to do something, two attributes you lacked beforehand. You have a chance to save him, and you're the only one who can do this, because without your help, I won't be able to do anything. Now, I won't be hoping anymore, but I will be asking you, will you come and help me find Marco and Star?"

Finding the two was synonym to defeating Britt, but Jackie didn't know that…Scott had played his hand, and folded all the cards on the table. Now he had to wait and see if he struck the royal flush, or nothing but a flimsy high card. He felt bad…terrible for what he was doing. This blatant manipulation was sickening him, but he kept repeating to himself that the ends justify the means. Britt had to be defeated, and Scott knew that he couldn't possibly do it alone, last time he tried, even losing an arm, but to succumb to such despicable tactics, was that worth it? He was slowly causing his consciousness to degrade, to rot and wither, leaving behind an unscrupulous rest of stray thoughts…He chased away this reflection, by focusing his attention of the most immediate goal he had, and that was rescuing his friends.

On the other hand, Jackie was having difficulty in deciding. She was alone, surrounded by people who saw her broken down, and was forced to resolve whether she was going to ally herself with a backstabbing man or to leave the same scum rescue her boyfriend all by himself. She had so little information to work with that she couldn't even put anything in balance…The only logical choice, as presented by the falsely kind and compassionate man before her, was to help him, following the logic of 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Still lost and staring at a point in the ground, she finally answered Scott, trying her best to drown her tears:

"I…will."


	12. Two sides of a story

Britt had a habit of putting his prisoners in strangely luxurious cells. A man of vanity, he never wanted to show that his living quarters had rooms that lacked a certain level of aesthetics, therefore he stationed the unconscious Marco and Star in a bedroom, the size of a manor living room, with two beds on opposite ends, both queen size, each having a pair of nightstand with the ancient equivalent of an alarm clock resting on top: a tiny cuckoo clock. The walls were painted in two different colors, creating the feeling of two halves being glued together. The right side was a mix between red and pink, a crayon rose, while the other side, although in the same pallet, was an extremely bright red, as if it was incandescent blood. A silk carpet covered the middle of the room, falling in the same category, the same nuances differentiating between its halves. Mounted above each bedframe there were two hunting trophies, a deer, staring purely into the eyes of a boar, who glared back with its vicious, raging black gaze. To illuminate the dark chamber (windowless as it was), a string of candles were placed at eye-level, around the ornaments, and they were all subordinated to an immense candelabra, sporting the same medieval light sources. The air was cool, but pleasantly so, but the temperature gave them no bearing on their location, whatsoever. However, the solid earth wall, with a few bricks scattered around, like moles on a plagued skin, told them that the underground was their home for the day. This was further confirmed by the echoes of footsteps growing closer and closer to them. It was as if a lady was tip-toeing in high heels only that it was Britt, who enjoyed visiting his prisoners and taunting them, but he couldn't do that right now…When he opened the little hatch he saw that the two were as he carefully placed them, spread out on their respective bed. Sad, he turned back and climbed the heap of stairs he descended on earlier. Exiting his deluxe dungeon, he headed down a wide hallway and stopped only when he reached a small side room. Inside, there was a lone armchair, right in the middle and on its left, a little table, whose one leg was decorated with corrupted spikes. A small glass filled with amber liquid was cooling off, small drops falling on the red cloth the table was upholstered with, flooding it. Dropping into his seat, Britt grabbed his cold drink and took a sip from it, spitting out immediately. Freezing his missing hand on the glass, he started fixating a point on the bland gray wall in front of him and started his wait. His train of thought was broken. His mind was empty, as the only thing he could ponder on, he refused to, with utmost obstinacy. Why would he bother himself with the fate of the two he had captured. They served their purpose pretty well, as bait for the one he needed to kill. Granted, the girl had to die soon after, but unless he was certain that she couldn't be converted to his cause, there was no reason to spill innocent blood, as she was an enormous addition to his army, and a victory condition in itself. The boy was disposable of, but putting the two together created the tension he needed in order to break the spirit of the girl. Now, the only thing left to do was wait… And long he had to wait indeed, because they weren't showing any signs of waking up anytime soon. Perhaps a slightly less powerful spell had to be used, but alas, what's done is done. But, as the respectable gentleman as he was, he couldn't just sit in the dark sipping liquor while doing nothing, but not a senseless nothing. With a bored gesture, he summoned a small little notebook and a bland plume, alongside an ink jar, that carefully glided onto the small table, which had to be enlarged. Opening it, seemingly at random, he flipped two pages then started gently caressing the worn out pages, writing in a paramount calligraphy.

"I've managed to finally find a way to lure my arch-nemesis into my castle, and force a head-on confrontation with him. It was more of an accident, rather than a carefully laid plan, but in every war serendipity had a word to tell, didn't it? Either way, this is what it'll all come down to, because I've got my army ready, the same as an apparent predecessor of mine had gathered. It's funny that I had come into existence exactly after one era of evil had ended, only so that I to bring forth another one. Somehow, this seems out of the do-gooders reach or will, but as my fellow opposite kindly put it, I had to exist, to balance things out. Poor soul, he doesn't realize how close he is to his own undoing. I've been studying his history for a while now, and I must say, it seems like a fairy tale, more than anything veridic and I can't swallow a lot of things, but they're canon enough, so I must make do. His revival seems the most peculiar to me, as its circumstances needed a lot of analysis in order for even me to fathom, but in the end I have singled out the culprit. The princess in question now lies unconscious in one of my holding cells, awaiting to face a shadow of her past, with whom she hadn't many interactions, due to what I can only interpret as romantic tension. Still, she is the only person, I've managed to get information on that knows such a useful technique, apart from a sort of deceased goat demon, which doesn't seem to be able to be rebirthed, unless he is like a mythological phoenix. Coming back to my enemy, I believe the relationship between the two is what had assured his revival, therefore I can conclude that the caster's psychological and moral state are clear influences on their spellcasting. They surely have the advantage here, because I am incapable of having such emotions. I have no hatred, no lust, no love, no envy, no greed, no gluttony, no wrath, I just have an end goal, that now seems to be more distant than I initially thought it'd be. When I had kidnapped Scott, he had no powers, not any that I could detect, his only arsenal were a couple of runes he had created prior to our confrontation, but he didn't seem much of a fighter. Even in a bibliography I stole from some Magic High Commission archives, he seemed to be a magic-heavy being. Take his powers away and he is nothing but a mere mortal. Now, he seems much more than that. I had underestimated him, and I did it at my own peril. When I tracked him back on Earth, I thought I could strike fast and be done with it, but that was not the case. I wasn't hindered by the princess' spells, as she had used only a fraction of her true power, but by Scott's insidious runes and tactical awareness, let alone his inhuman reflexes and battlefield vision. Even without powers, he seems to grip tight to attributes that do not pertain to him at all, given his species…For the first time I foresee an imminent defeat, for me, but that is only if I don't play my cards right, which obviously I won't. I reckon that Scott will not come alone, probably he'll be accompanied by a team, or by that white-haired girl, who seemed to have a connection to my other prisoner, but however he'll come, he will be my focus. Nobody apart from the princess is as powerful as him, and is allowed to intervene, therefore if I get rid of him, I have won. The reason behind my statement, is exactly the relationship between the two powerhouses…Should one be gone, the other will falter, will remain weakened and easy to lure into a painless voyage towards my victory. I can't strike down the princess, because she is immune to many of my spells, due to an inherent condition, bestowed upon them by an ancient force, the origin of which remains unknown for me, but once Scott is gone, she is malleable and easy to manipulate. Her lover gone, she will accept my ideas, my views, my ideals and my goals, and will view them as her own, in a pointless attempt to alleviate the pain she knows she can't be ridden of otherwise. It's imperative that I remove any means of revival, though. As I take it, there needs to be a vessel, for that to be able to happen. Should there be none, no such act will be possible, and…I win. As simple as that."

With this end conclusion, Britt slammed his little journal shut and opened a portal to the ceiling of his holding room, a small one, so that it won't be noticed and gazed deeply into it. His prisoners had awoken, and he could only stay in silence and enjoy the show that was about to unveil. The two were still in the same positions as they were left in, and both of them seemed out of energy and were rubbing their eyes, driving away the last effects of the spell. It took a short while for them to notice that they were locked in the same room, together, and their first reflex was to head to the door, in tandem. Marco tried opening it, then to bust through it, but to no avail, then Star tried blasting it, yet again, the door was as immovable as the mountain their cell was dug in. Escape still being the only thought in their heads, their next focus was on the walls, but seeing no progress was made, they tried the ceiling, as the floor was the last place they'd think of bursting through. Needless to say that everything failed. They were trapped in a veritable fort that was flimsy just in appearance, not in essence. Star had stopped trying when she saw that not even her fiercest spells could penetrate the impenetrable defense of the cell, but Marco, obstinate as he was, didn't give up. He found a small hatch on the bottom of the door, and was now aimlessly trying to force his hand through and open the door from the outside. He didn't notice that the handle wasn't the type he was accustomed to, so his attempts were essentially fruitless, but this didn't stop him from admonishing Star, for not helping and surrendering so fast.

"You know, you could help, right? We're in this mess together, and it's your fault more than it is mine…"

Star didn't answer, but noticed what he was trying to do. Not wanting to start a fight, she got up, used a conjuring spell to create a hand that she carefully and masterfully guided on the path to the handle, which she tried turning, just for the sake of it, but the door stubbornly remained shut, as it was locked. Having finished her job, Star returned to her side of the room and laid her head on the deceivingly soft pillow, telling Marco to give it a rest.

"So, we were captured by this omnipotent guy and you decide to just quit?"

"No, Marco. We can't escape, only Scott barely made it out, and I think you know how he ended up."

"Ugh…So, what are we going to do, just wait for someone to rescue us like the damsels in distress we are?"

"Pretty much. I'm guessing that someone's already plotting our rescue, but I am not quite sure who. I mean, Scott is clearly on it, but I have no idea about the others, like Janna and the crew, my mom, Glossaryck. It's quite the blank space, really." Star sounded as carefree as she always was, which completely disconcerted Marco, who was baffled to see how calm and collected she was, whereas he was freaking out.

"How can you be so chill? Don't you fear for anything? I mean, for all we know this guy is like a second Toffee, just with no motivation and a lot more overpowered, and he's already been more active than Toffee…"

"Well, I don't know. I guess after all that's happened, all those dramas and traumas, I kind of got used to it all. After I've seen my boyfriend die, get his hand cut, go insane, after I revived him, saw him get plastered through two walls and be a-okay, after I've been kidnapped, forbidden to help, left alone in a castle, fought some crazy demons, found you, assisted to a couple more dramas, tried to figure out ways to get you and Jackie to like us only for this guy to demolish our plans…I guess I'm pretty hardened."

"I don't know half of these…"

"Well, you couldn't have. We weren't on the friendliest of terms after our…separation. We both tried reaching out to you, but you didn't respond to any of our letters, nor any invitations, and you rejected any attempt of ours to communicate with you."

"Hold on…Ours?"

"Well, yeah, both me and Scott have tried vividly to maintain contact with you, and make amends to you…"

"Argh, he told me it was only you."

"You know how he is, I mean, he wouldn't admit that he needs someone in his life for nothing, except for, sometimes, me. But yes, he was, in fact, the one who started our attempts. I think that proud as the peacock he once was, he omitted this detail."

"Yeah…but…why did you try, though? You're both independent, self-sufficient, amazing people (Marco lowered his voice saying that), and after the way you dropped me like a lead turd, I figured you didn't want anything to do with me…"

"Why, would you think that?"

"Well, it's my turn to make the list. You had a crush on me for a long time, we've had that strange Blood Moon thingy, we've been through so many things together, over the course of the year we've spent, I've risked my life to come to you when you were left alone and threatened, we've been together for about two months, I've had to do a lot of questionable things for you, and the same goes for you, in return, I've gotten into a war that wasn't mine to fight in the first place, and you…you just left me for Scott. You have no idea how hard it was for me to get back on track after that, because I've been dumped by Jackie as well, so that bridge was pretty much burnt down, fallen in the abyss, kaput. I've been lucky enough to earn back compassion, and over time, I managed to let everything that you represented in the past. Every single magic item was gone anyway, as you left, but I hung on to the dimensional scissors, because they reminded me of the years I've spent chasing Hekapoo. Not only that, but I used them to visit her every once in a while. At first, it was only because I did it just for a change, but over time, she taught me many new things, fighting wise, but at the same time I've learnt more of other worlds, completely unrelated to Mewni. It was a great way of reliving some nostalgia, to escape from the boring life I was living, but I couldn't complain. I had a girlfriend that cared for me and that I cared for right back, I had no problems at school, no enemies, and after you have made me into what I am, I became one of the more popular kids. In the end, no one is as cool as someone who can fricking cast spells…Now that I think of it…" Marco stopped short, looking as if he was trying to recollect his thoughts, but Star knew, after many an hour spent in the company of a subtext-filled-speech-ridden boyfriend, what was going on inside his head.

"You shouldn't have misjudged us, Marco. Despite all three of us are certain that what we did was wrong, we could've gone down another path. Now, remorse is the only thing we have left, but it doesn't have to remain like that. Marco," Star said leaving her bed and going next to him, who was leaning on the door, "do you think we can work things out and let bygones be bygones?"

"Well…Without you, I couldn't have done anything I've did. I wouldn't have gotten Jackie, I would've remained the same monotonous boy, struggling to prove to himself and to the others that he wasn't just a simple student, barely passing through life, without leaving any imprint in it…"

"So…?" Star asked as Marco stopped again, abruptly.

"I…I still don't know. I don't think I'm ready to get back into this world…Plus it's not a decision I make only for myself."

"Yes it is! You don't have to drag anyone into this…I understand that you are reticent to accept us, the people who have caused you so much trouble, emotionally, and welcome us back into your life, but don't blame it on someone who has nothing to do with it. You can't just run from your resolutions by motivating that you'll possibly hurt someone else, which is pretty improbable. It wasn't because of Jackie that you didn't answer our letters, it wasn't because of her that you declined any sort of invitation we'd send you, it was all you. You were the one who was impossible, and yet…We both kept trusting you, and we didn't give you up. And you know why? It's because Scott taught me something, in the short amount of time he could still spare schooling me, and that is to give up only things that are impossible, as they are distractions that waste time…"

"Scott sure taught you a lot didn't he…"

"Yep, pretty much, but you were also a proud recipient of his teachings…Let me ask you a question. Why do you think he came to you, after the confrontation with Britt?"

"Well, he told me that he wouldn't want to bother you and scare you…"

"Oh…But that's not the whole truth. He could've gone to Glossaryck, whom he had actually encountered in your house, or he could've gone to Mewni, where no one would've asked him any questions. I've got to tell him to stop being so proud and just lay everything he has on the table. He came to you, because he wanted to see if you were a lost cause or not…After he woke up, and told me everything that happened, he mentioned something, although it was a mumble under his breath, and that was that he would've tried to come to you, either way… Sooner or later. Obviously, our indirect attempts were pretty meaningless, so a direct approach had to be taken…He saw the opportunity and took it, and he timed it pretty well, I must say, to come to you when I was trying to reconnect to my old earthly friends too."

"Now… I just feel bad for what I did…"

"You don't have to…It's in the past, and no point in beating it to death, especially right now…But, now are you going to remain with this bad feeling, or are you going to do something about it?"

That question was left unanswered. Britt had been watching all this show unveil, but didn't like what he had seen so far. They were bonding, forgetting their problems, and that wasn't the purpose of putting them together. Right before Marco could respond, he used the same spell he used before, and they both fell to the ground, opposite to each other, unconscious. Opening a portal, he transferred the princess to another room, but the location of which, in relation to Marco's room was unknown…Seeing that his plan hadn't succeeded, he opened his notebook again, and began plotting another plan, taking in account more variables this time…

"Okay, it's been a week, and you haven't done anything to rescue them, what the heck are you even waiting for?" Jackie asked obfuscated as she had joined Scott for perhaps the last time in a little walk in the park. "You've never even brought that subject up, and whenever I did, you'd shush me, telling me it's for another time. All you did so far was just talk about random and unrelated crap, and overall you haven't even gotten near what we have to do…Just tell me how I can find this guy and I'll be on my way, otherwise this is just wasting our time…"

Scott chuckled a bit and then replied still smiling, interrupting the white haired girl.

"Very well. You'll need a pair of these," he said handing her a pair of dimensional scissors, other than his, "and you should try jumping across dimensions until you find a large castle etched into a mountain surrounded by a canyon teeming with beasts. I can't really teach you the more complex notions of interdimensional travel, but you'll be on your way. You may also want one of these," Scott said revealing a hidden curved dagger, concealed by his long never missing coat. "Any questions?"

"None at all. Thanks." And with that Jackie turned around and left. She didn't care much for Scott, and didn't find any necessity in him accompanying her. Even though he was extremely experienced, the lack of interest he had in what was up until this point their salutary mission has annoyed her. At first, it seemed to be part of a greater scheme, but overall the idea that Scott wasn't going to move a finger, was becoming more and more a certainty. Now that she finally found the means of addressing this problem, she was slightly more confident, but the lack of direct knowledge on the enemy had made short work of her new found courage. Now, she was left as helpless as she was when Marco was kidnapped, not having anyone to support her in her decision. Now she was confronted with a choice. Either continue a seemingly useless endeavor and resume Scott's teachings in order to try and obtain any valuable information out of him, or try and do everything on her own, which would be more supportable, yet possibly fruitless. This resolution was hard to do, because time was of the essence, and therefore it couldn't be delayed more than needed, and at the same time, both choices would cause the planning to go on an unknown period of time. There was no guarantee she could get anything out of the pretty deranged boy, nor that she could find anything on her own. The only thing that was certain was that she couldn't stay in place, she had to act and act fast. Chances wise, it was best to get in the graces of the elusive persona, but time wise, it could be pretty fatal, as she could start her research right away, while it could take a while to get anything out of Scott. Plus, whatever she found could be wrong, while it was sure that whatever she'd get out of someone who had confronted a common enemy was to be taken as an absolute fact. There was no arrow pinpointing the right decision at this point, and there was no one to ask for help, nor support…Of course, there was Janna and the rest of the gang, who probably knew a lot more about the magical world, but, truth be told, there was a reticence in asking for their help. They had kind of taken the part of Star in this whole conflict, as opposed to Marco's, not necessarily openly stating their allegiance, but indirectly declaring it. Whereas Star had a bunch of people caring for her, in ways ranging from the most to slightly, she had no one else but her boyfriend. She may have been a cool girl all in all, but that didn't mean she had a lot of friends. Being chill wasn't quite a quality needed, nor sought after for anything other than an acquaintance level of social relationships, but it was mostly all she had. Serendipity had actually brought the two together, as they simply completed each other, in many aspects. She was outgoing where he was shy, he was smart and perseverant where she was laid-back and casual. The list goes on quite indefinitely as they seemed two pieces that fit together perfectly in a much bigger puzzle. However, it was him that stood out, in the end, not her. She was pretty bland, in essence, lack-luster through an unwanted excellence, while he, although concealed by an apparent shyness, had a lot of qualities and defining traits that shone through in the end. Now, it was her chance to prove that she had something else going on for her, and that she could be the one to take initiative, instead of just being passive. In her determined state, she went straight home, stopping her short before any attempt of gallivanting and, focused as she was, the first thing she did was recollect her thoughts. This started from the second she passed through the door. It progressed rapidly as she jumped over a flight of stairs, but ended as abruptly as it started, when she was greeted by Scott standing in the middle of her room, planted on a chair. Obviously enraged, she didn't wait one second more to start admonishing him, only for her in return to be scolded in return by her mother for pointless yells. Scott didn't miss the opportunity:

"Ah, it's funny how adults don't matter until they need to figure into our situation. I wonder how come Marco's don't even matter in this whole kidnapping…Didn't you ask yourself that? How come no one, not even his parents noticed he was gone, despite it was quite the showcase, nonetheless. Didn't you think there was something strange about this?"

"No…" Jackie was still obfuscated, and this was apparent in the fact that she was slightly disconcerted by his answer, only to jump back on her anger-filled track right away. "What the hell are you even doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone…"

"Haha, funny. In fact you didn't explicitly say that, which lead me to many, oh so many, ways to think that you might not want to leave me just yet, and that it's just the angst and fear of being left alone, with no one to care for you. They are loud but easy to silence. Either way, I figured you'd resolve to let me stick around, and I might make it worth your while. It's been a week since the events, right? And I have done nothing, well in your view, that is…Allow me to continue wasting your time then…"

With no warning whatsoever, Scott tackled Jackie, at the same time holding his scissors wide open, causing them to fall in a freshly created portal. The world around them was dark, and there didn't seem to be any sunlight coming anytime soon, from anywhere close. Jackie was still dizzy from her fall, and had to take some time to recover, but Scott was nowhere to be found…So, he not only did nothing to rescue Marco, but now he kidnapped her, in a strange attempt to prove his worth. The wind was blowing from her right, and she could hear water dripping from somewhere above, plus her steps echoed as if she was sitting in an open hall, so it was quite obvious that she was in a cave, fact further sustained by the stalagmites she had walked into. She knew that she should've followed the gusts as they came from the exit, and to the exit they also lead to. There was no light, and she had no lighter nor glow stick remaining in any of her pockets, so she had to wander around a dangerous cave, blind as the bats roaming over her head, between her feet and under her arms. The only sound she was hearing was the monotonous echo of her steps cracking the fragile and sedimentary rock beneath her feet, as she had to tip-toe her way through the darkness, paired with water droplets falling irregularly on the floor. The silence was eerie, gloomy and terrifying, especially for someone who, reckless at heart, had trouble getting through strange, unprepared adventures. This endeavor was a first for her, in spite of any appearance. The cold, the moisture in the air, the strange mild quakes all threw Jackie out of her usual chill mood and let her fearful and vulnerable…

A sharp sound bursted through the dark peace of the cave, and it fell at the feet of Jackie who had instinctively recoiled at the thunder-like noise. In a glance, she saw the small throwing knife, with its curved blade, lodged deep inside the rock. Without having time to recover from the shock, two other daggers followed, but this time, she had the chance of spotting their source, and dodge them quite easily. Unable still to see her assailant, she carefully and silently made her way towards the unknown attacker, her eyes furiously analyzing every single glint the iron of another dagger would come. Another blade had been thrown, but this time slightly from her right. What followed was a fast series of footsteps, ended with a sliding tackle, that knocked her off her feet, causing her to hit her head on the hard floor underneath. She hadn't time to process her pain, as the person's footsteps grew fainter then louder again, and then suddenly stopped. It took a short yet unending while to realize that he had jumped and only when an immense block of air had smashed into her face did she realize that her enemy had jumped and was ready to bash her. In an instant she rolled to the side and got up, in one swift motion. Unable to confront him head on, Jackie started running in the same direction as before, growing more attentive with every rapid step she took. About five minutes of her jogging through the dark had passed, until the next problem arose. She got in a clearing, that bore a strange, yet warm red glow, emanating from the center of a secondary crevasse, but the light was buried underneath a thick layer of water. There was a sort of bridge, created by a few scattered islands and another big piece of land was visible on the other side, but the swift footsteps behind her had made her question whether it was a good idea to start the crossing, as it would leave her both exposed and vulnerable at the same time. However, as the alternative was to face her attacker head on, she resolved that fleeing was the best option at the moment. Without any further ado, she plunged in the water, only to see that it was only a couple of feet deep. A swift passage meant that she needed to do a lot of footwork, her forte, given her many years spent skateboarding. She was at about half the distance when she heard the water splashing behind her, causing her blood to freeze in her veins, but paradoxically her heavy steps to pick up the pace. She didn't have the guts to look back, her only thought was to continue running. He was approaching, slowly but surely, and the distance between her and her goal seemed to get bigger instead of smaller. The second she set foot on the land, forgetting that she almost slipped back in, right away, she darted towards what appeared to be a narrow corridor. Now, feeling a bit more sheltered, she finally glanced back only to pick up a few details, out of which one helped her instantly realize the identity of her dreaded assailant. The missing hand could mean that none other than Scott was chasing her.

As she advanced, her walking being impaired by the rough walls she had to pass her legs against, as she could only step with one foot at a time. A louder splash had signaled that Scott had passed through the water trial as well, and was now closing in on her position. She tried to go faster, but to no avail, as she was already at max speed. She could spot the end of her misery, as clear light was shyly protruding through the narrow gap before her. However, as she spotted her exit, a new thought crossed her mind. Scott was faster than her, given that he had caught up to her quite fast, and would certainly have a much easier job should he be in broad daylight…At some point, the left wall was discontinuous, leaving a small opening for someone just her size to hide in. Instead of continuing on her set path, she crawled in, trying to tuck herself as best as she could, only to try and recollect her thoughts. But that had to wait, as her heart started beating through her chest, while Scott was approaching her. She almost let out a grumbled yelp as he stopped right in front of her hiding spot, as if he was sniffing the air around, like a wild beast. Thankfully, the crazed man had passed her and he was blissfully unaware of her presence. Until his loud footsteps weren't heard anymore she couldn't help but breathe heavily and rarely, until finally, the distant sounds of a river flowing had drowned out his presence… Still, not wanting to take any chances, she remained inside her makeshift shelter, pondering over the situation…She hadn't the slightest idea on who Scott actually was, therefore, she could only assume that his strange behavior was normal. Seeing that she had let him go, dropped him out of her life, he got mad and therefore launched this all-out attack on her. She could even picture him frantically and maniacally searching for her in the depths of what appeared to be a jungle outside the cave she was in…However what she had to ponder more was the true extent of how she handled this sudden situation. Albeit, afraid, she had managed to get past her terror quite rapidly, whereas she couldn't have done that any time before. Her reflexes were keen and sharp, as proven by the dagger dodging, she had made instant and good decisions, she knew how to ration her energy and use the environment as an aid to her fleeing…All of those seemed quite unlike anything she has been so far. Perhaps it only took the proper circumstances to trigger something long dormant inside her, or perhaps it was just an adrenaline rush that caused her to act the way she did. Truth be told, it felt as if she already knew everything she needed to do, but only now she could put it into a proper context. The information seemed to be recent as well, but it was hard to trace its source...

One thing was clear to her…She had to get out the cave and possibly find a way back to civilization. She dislodged herself from the crammed posture she stood in, so that she could fit, and traversed the remainder of the narrow rock corridor, only to be greeted by a large opening, out of which luxuriant vegetation almost flooded the cavern's entrance. The forest was silent, no clichéd bird chirps audible, and the river she seemingly heard earlier turned to be an illusion. What she noticed that was fit for a jungle was the horrendous humidity and the blistering heat, that, when paired, transformed any crossing into a living hell. Still, it was her only shot; the longer she stood in one place the bigger the odds of her being found. However, after a few minutes she had to lean on a rough and prickly tree trunk, in order to catch her breath, as she wasn't one too endure such weather…She was dehydrated, and the atmosphere didn't help at all. Her first priority was now to find any source of potable water, or a way to filter any impure water…After finally regaining her strengths, she started to wander deeper into the jungle. There was one side where the bushes were abundant, and grass was covering the lateritic ground, signaling the presence of, perhaps, a small pond. Her hunch was right, as she found a clearing forming itself all around a lake, surrounded by white flowers, mostly marigold…This was strange, as she would've expected to find more exotic plants, rather than bland and common ones, but alas, she had found her target, and in record time nonetheless. The water seemed clean, yet she didn't want to take any chances. Thankfully, the pond fueled a small and shy water snake, which passed through a heap of black rocks, after finally losing itself in the ground…Not the most advanced filter, but nature had to suffice. Now, fully hydrated, Jackie had another priority on her mind. The sun began falling under the horizon line in record time, and nightfall was now a dangerously approaching event. She had to find shelter. The jungle wasn't really the most comfortable place to sleep in, nor a pension, but it had its quirks. Many low hanging vines made it easy for even the least agile person to climb up the tress, while the immensity of the vegetation provided a great hideout as well as a rather cozy resting space. However, finding one such 'lodging' was hard, especially in the dusk light. It took a lot of groping in the dark in order to finally come across an uncanny tree. It was shaped like a hook, with the handle being a thick uproot, while the blade was a singular bulky branch, stretching from the ground to the top, describing a broad arc. A few willow-like leaves covered a perfect spot, where the wood formed a platform, while the overgrown roots of the tree were a perfect minefield to slow any attempts of a dastardly night strike. The second she grabbed a vine, an army of red pixies sprouted from the short grass, engulfing her shelter with an aurora of glimmering lights…They weren't hostile, but were a dead giveaway of her position. Jackie tried warding them off, but they just flew away momentarily, in order to return shortly after…

A dastardly thought arose in Jackie's mind. Sooner or later, she may have to confront Scott head on, whether she liked or wanted that or not. Why not transform an unforeseeable happening into a controlled certainty? The tree could act as bait, and he could be lured to her position with a makeshift dummy of herself, while she'd wait hidden and jump on him… This is how, after ripping a few marigold, which were growing conspicuously all around the jungle, she had created a model of her head, while several branches made a pretty believable body. She had found a strangely pointy rock in the vicinity of one of the pixies, while a string-like vine had tied it to a solid piece of wood to create a primitive spear. Now, a guerilla warrior in her prime, she hid behind the tree, in a small hollow and so began the waiting.

It wasn't sure how much time has passed. The concept of duration had dilated to the point that hours couldn't have been distinguished from minutes. Jackie was so focused that she couldn't feel anything. The dampness was inexistent to her, the cramps in her crouched legs were undistinguishable from her neck-ache, both being just physical, but mentally blocked. Her hand was clenched on the tip of her weapon, and her only sense active was hearing, the others compulsory blocked as they were useless. And this decision had paid off, as she heard the faint rustling of nearby bushes, signaling the presence of someone. Its identity was soon confirmed as the heavy footsteps Jackie heard in the cavern, matched these almost identically, the difference being caused by the terrain. Her fist gripped the spear tighter, as Scott was seen emerging from the darkness, at the edge of the pixie circle. He hadn't spotted the real her, therefore his trajectory was a t beeline towards the front end of the trunk. His one hand slowed his ascent, but his strength made up for it, as he pushed his entire weight on the tree in order to push himself outward, then swing higher. Jackie, after the top branches have cracked, had left her hiding spot and, spear behind her belt, started climbing after him as silently as possible…

Now came the biggest question. What would happen next? What did she have to do? Did she…have to kill him? Could she do that? Was that even necessary? Why did she even build a spear? All those questions only now came to her mind, as she was supposed to make another fast decision, without being able to balance the consequences. Her life was at stake at this point, and her resolution was paramount to her survival…It was killed or be killed, and this is why, when Scott leaned over, implanting a dagger into the rough wood, Jackie lodged her spear deep inside his upper back, seemingly piercing his heart. Scott, convulsing on the ground after finally stopping. His face was now illuminated by the moon, as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, while a long spear was protruding from his side. The deed was done. Jackie had made her decision and survived but for her to live, Scott had to die. But that wasn't what either wanted. Jackie showed a ruthless nature, through a merciless and cowardly gesture, backstabbing her only ally at the time, supposedly gone crazy. What if she was mistaken? What if it wasn't necessary…? What if she killed for nothing? Disgusted by her new thoughts, she jumped from her elevated position, landing near Scott. He looked so peaceful, not an ounce of evil in his entire being. His livid lips were reddened by the vital fluid that wasn't pumped in his veins anymore… His eyes were still open, staring Jackie down, filling her with newfound guilt…Jackie couldn't get herself to look him in the eyes, but she thought that it was needed for him to rest in peace. She closed his eyes…and at the same time, the dead man arose again and tackled her as before, his scissors drawn splitting open a portal. The two were now back in Jackie's room, the sun throwing his last spears through the open window…

"W-Wha-What…?" Jackie asked rhetorically, awestruck by the rapid and rash series of events…

"So, our discussions about the jaguar's way of stalking prey, the importance of hydration in the human body, the geography of caves, the physics of water, the primitive weaponry and the serial killers of the modern era were pointless, weren't they?" Scott ironically and triumphantly asked the white-haired girl as he removed the spear from his back.


End file.
